Hiccup at large
by GreatMarta
Summary: Hiccup flies off with Toothless after the battle with Hookfang in the first movie and meets his mother. Meanwhile Astrid attempts to get through to Stoick and fix the mess. [AU] [Hiccup meets Valka sooner] [Repost from AO3] [cover image by chorchori, done as commission for me]
1. Hiccup at large

As merciless winds slapped tears off his face, and the dragon beneath him darted onwards and onwards, Hiccup struggled to determine how exactly they ended up flying to the end of the world.

Everything was going on just fine. He had managed to get Astrid to see that dragons aren't monsters. He had almost tamed a Monstrous Nightmare in front of the whole community. He had almost proved to them that everything they knew about dragons was wrong.

The 'almost' made a grave difference.

His father just had to go insane and scare the dragon Hiccup was about to befriend. Just had to smash his hammer against the safety barrier right before they formed a connection.

Seconds later all Hel broke lose. The dragon blasted fire all over the place, the boy had to run for his life, people screamed and shouted. Hiccup caught the glimpse of Astrid, who risked her life to save his. And then, when he was about to get eaten, Toothless blasted the arena barrier open, defeated the Monstrous Nightmare, and rushed to his side. Hiccup couldn't tell which one of them took charge of the situation after this. Probably both. Yes, they both feared for each other's safety. Seeing that the Vikings were already rushing at them, the boy hopped on top of his dragon and they made their escape. Flying onwards and onwards, separating themselves from the island of Berk and everything it represented.

Thus, here they were – on a random island not pictured in any map Hiccup has seen till now. Without food or fresh water. With no resources whatsoever. Just the two of them. Hope's refugees.

Anger burned the boy's interior as he clenched his fists and smashed them against the unknown land. He was so close. So close to ending the war between Vikings and dragons. He tried so hard and got so far. Only to have his father ruin it all.

Father. The sodding chief of the sodding village of violence-loving hooligans. How could Hiccup have been so stupid to assume he could convince Stoick the Vast that dragons could be trained? When has his father ever listened to him? When has he paid attention? Ne'er. Of course. Ones like him never change. Not because of their hopeless, runty sons.

Hiccup's tears sunk into the foreign soil. Never before has he felt so hopeless. If only he had been a bulky boy with beefy arms, would his father have listened to what he had to say? Would it have made a difference? If he had taken his father to meet Toothless the night before the final test, would Stoick have let him explain? If Astrid could change her views, why couldn't he?

Hiccup wiped his face and rolled onto his back, directing his gaze towards the darkening sky. He had tried. There was nothing more he could do. He had to try and think about the future. About himself and Toothless.

They had to find civilization. People. They were going to need tools to fix Toothless' tail in case something happened to it. Hiccup was going to need clothes. Not immediately, but clothes do wear out.

But no. They could never settle down. Not among people. People hated dragons.

But maybe there are people who don't? Maybe there are places where people and dragons live in harmony?

Sure. That would be right over the rainbow.

Hiccup sighed. He should have just cut out Toothless' heart back when he found him. It would have been better for the both of them.

A sudden noise caught the boy's attention. He lifted himself into a sitting position and noticed Toothless looking at him curiously.

"What is it, bud?" asked Hiccup.

The dragon responded by throwing up a fish in front of his human. Clearly satisfied with the result, the Night Fury looked up, meeting Hiccup's concerned eyes with his own, encouraging.

_Eat up_

Hiccup managed a weak smile. He may be the first Viking since the founding of Berk who wouldn't kill a dragon. He could live with the shame. But he could never live with the guilt of having killed a creature whose eyes reflected his own soul. Toothless was intelligent, capable of compassion, had a sense of humor and genuinely cared for him. He was the best friend Hiccup has ever had. If he was to start everything from scratch, he could not think of anybody he would rather have for his companion.

"Thanks, bud," said the boy, reaching out for the gift of the Night Fury. It was raw. Covered in saliva. But it came from the heart. That was all it mattered.

But Toothless would not let him eat just yet. The dragon turned to a nearby bush and promptly set it on fire. Hiccup jumped back, startled. The bush was a sole standing one, but there was grass all around. It could catch fire.

The boy grabbed a stick and hurried to circle the area around the bush. Remove the grass. Get some stones. Yes, stones, he needed to secure the fireplace. Quickly!

Toothless stared in puzzlement at his human as he ran around, panicking. Pull out grass. Turn the ground. Get more stones. Repeat.

Finally the young Viking dropped to the ground. He managed to secure the bush before the fire spread. They're saved.

Toothless chose this moment to approach his human. In his muzzle he brought the fish he had previously vomited. Along with a stick.

Hiccup considered his dragon, bewildered. Then realization grew in his head. Fish. Fire. Stick.

Toothless remembered that Hiccup had to roast his meals. He wanted to make him feel like home.

Tears once again made their way into the young Viking's eyes. But this time, they were caused by sheer joy. Toothless gave him a piece of home in this foreign land. Restored hope in his heart. Assured him that there was life for them after all this. There was future.

Touched to the very core of his soul, the boy hugged the dragon tightly. Toothless was puzzled by the sudden display of affection, but didn't push Hiccup away. After a brief moment of hesitation, he put his paw around the boy. This small gesture spoke more than a thousand words could.

That night the boy and the dragon fell asleep on the foreign island, finding solace in each other's warmth. They didn't know what their journey would bring them to, but it didn't matter. They had each other. They would be fine.


	2. Losing sight of Hiccup

Seconds after the black point vanished from the sky, Stoick the Vast was still staring hopelessly at that particular spot. He didn't dare move, fearing he may fall apart if he so much as blinks. A part of him clung to the last straws of hope, foolishly believing he could turn back the time. Just a couple of seconds. Just enough to prevent that black beast from taking his son.

This desperate prayer will not be answered. He knew. He's been there before. 14 years ago a dragon took the woman he loved. Now his only son suffered the same fate.

They were lost to him forever. Because of the dragons.

Because he had been too late.

Anguish struck the Viking chief in the heart. He wanted to cry. To scream till his throat bled. To throw himself to the ground and weep bitterly. It took every bit of strong will to not give in to those pathetic desires.

Stoick clenched his jaws and fists, all his muscles clenching around his traumatized core like a snake. He should have known. He should have never let Hiccup into the dragon training. He should have taught him better. If only he had paid more attention to the boy, he may still have had a family. But he had failed and now he was alone.

Alone.

ALONE.

Wrath spread through the chief's veins, igniting fire that consumed his memories. His son. A runt who caused trouble whenever he went outside. This very runt somehow became the top of dragon fighting class. And ended up leaving on the back of a dragon.

As much as Stoick wanted to blame the dragons alone, he could not ignore the fact that the Night Fury was wearing a saddle. Nor the knowledge that Hiccup was capable of making one.

His son betrayed him. He threw away his legacy and chose to side with the beasts. Believed they could be reasoned with. Tried to protect that blasted Night Fury from him.

While Stoick was searching for the devils' nest, they have corrupted his son.

He should have known. He should have seen the signs. There was just too much Valka in Hiccup.

By the gods, Stoick had loved her. Loved the grace with which she climbed trees. The dreamy gaze with which she stared into the sunset. The way she could catch a sturgeon with one hit of a harpoon, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. A wonderful woman she was, his Valka. But not a Viking. For all her qualities, she just couldn't bring herself to kill a dragon. Insisted they didn't have to fight, that there was another way. That rendered her useless in the eyes of the society. And brought her to her doom.

Stoick had known and did nothing. He failed to save his wife from her own madness. He failed to save his only son.

A chief protects his own and he failed to do so.

And now he had nothing left. Nothing but revenge.

Letting the realization sink in, the chief sensed the questioning gazes of his people of his back. Sensed somebody approaching.

He would not let them pity him. Not while he was alive.

Turning to the shocked crowd, the chief summoned all his anger and bellowed. "What are you staring at?! Don't you have something to do?! Scatter!"

His best friend Gobber approached him, his expression worried. "Stoick, your son..."

"Son?! What son?!" roared the chief. "I ain't got no son! You hear me?!"

Gobber was petrified. "B-bu..."

But Stoick was already turning his back to him. "Get back to work! We've got no time to fool around!"

With that he hurried away, heading towards the future that was falling apart. He would learn to live in the world without Hiccup. He had learned to live in the world without Valka. He would carry the burden his own blindness had earned him. And he would see to it that every single dragon in existence is dealt with the proper way.

He will liberate his people. Or die trying.


	3. Since Hiccup was gone

Gobber didn't think he could feel this guilty about chopping vegetables. Any sort of everyday activity seemed like a crime against decency after the loss their family suffered today. Hiccup, his little Hiccup, taken by a Night Fury. This was so bizarre he still couldn't believe it. Still, he could not afford to let grief or disbelief get in his way. He knew his pain was nothing compared to that the boy's real father must be feeling.

Stoick the Vast sat in his favorite chair, sharpening an axe with a stone. It was evident that he was boiling inside, that the boat of his sanity was being harassed by the winds of remorse and waves of despair. It was the air around him they should be chopping right now. It was so thick from all this tension.

Although chopping onions gave Gobber an excuse to cry. Not that Stoick would notice.

The smith sighed. It will never be the right moment to address the tragedy that struck them. He might as well start now. Before his friend decides to take another attempt at finding the dragons' nest. Berk couldn't afford to lose any more ships.

"So he did bring down that Night Fury," stated Gobber, a matter of fact.

This seemingly innocent utterance bore severe implications. First of all, Hiccup did not kill the dragon – proof of cowardice and weakness. He'd have to be the first Viking in the whole known history of Vikings who wouldn't kill a dragon. Furthermore, he has been harboring the beast dangerously close to home – proof of carelessness and stupidity. The lad gambled with the lives of the entire population to proof some farfetched thesis. To think he could train a dragon? A Night Fury? Madness.

Night Fury. Gobber grew up hearing stories of those abominations. He's fought many dragons, he's lost two limbs to Monstrous Nightmares, he was easily one of the most acknowledged dragon experts in existence. Yet, even he has never seen a Night Fury. Until today.

Odin's beard, that thing was magnificent. So fierce. So swift. The quintessence of everything he's ever wanted to wipe from the surface of the world.

Oh yes, Gobber knew how to appreciate a miracle when he saw one. And that moment of awe might have cost Hiccup his life.

The smith cursed himself silently. He dared think himself Hiccup's greatest protector. He dared call himself Stoick's right-hook man. Taking that single moment to appreciate the monster he's dreamt of seeing and killing, he's let them both down. To put it mildly.

Still, he was not about to let the misery consume him. Severity of his failure be damned, he still was Stoick's sole rock of support in the raging storm their life has become. Even if it felt like closing the door after the sheep have escaped, he had to try and cheer him up.

"Just when I thought the boy couldn't surprise us anymore, he does something like this," Gobber attempted a lighter tone. "You saw it, didn't you? The Night Fury had a saddle. Sif's tits, it looked like it came to protect Hiccup. And then the lad hopped on its back, just like this. You'd think he was riding that beast, not being abducted by it."

Those were all accurate observations. For all his hatred towards dragons, Gobber wasn't blind. When other Vikings let their beliefs cloud their judgment, he kept his mind open for the truth, no matter how crude or heartbreaking it may be. It was one of the reasons he was still alive.

Though, judging by the look Stoick was giving him now, he might not have much life left.

Stoick was an intelligent man, he had to have noticed everything his friend has just pointed out. What remained to discuss were the conclusions.

"I once knew a man who thought he could control dragons," the chief of Berk blurted. His eyes flashed with anger as he regarded his confidante. "Drago Bloodvist."

"Oh, for Thor's hammer's sake, Stoick!" shouted Gobber in disbelief. "Are you seriously comparing Hiccup to the man who burnt a whole hall of chieftains alive, all because they laughed at him?"

The chief jumped to his feet. "Is that really so different than what Hiccup has done?!" he bellowed. "Hiccup the Hopeless, so they called him! Every time you step out a disaster happens, so I told him! He was too weak to be a Viking, so he went and tamed a gods-damned Nigth Fury!" the man yelled on, pacing nervously back and forth, swinging his axe in blind rage. "Tyrants are made, Gobber! Not born! And now my son may just as well be re-forging the monster he used to fear into a weapon he could conquer the world with! I am not one of them, you've heard him! He betrayed us! Betrayed me! Betrayed you! Betrayed the Viking…!"

BAM!

Stoick froze. Slowly he turned his face towards Gobber. He didn't notice him approaching. Not until he's slapped him hard across the face.

The blond Viking was now regarding his friend with a blank expression.

"Calm. Your. Tits," he said in an equally blank tone. "You ain't foolin' nobody, you know. You convinced yourself Hiccup was mad, because this version gives you a streak of hope that he's still alive. Which he most probably isn't, if we chose to see him as a victim of his foolishness. We did know somebody who thought we didn't have to kill dragons, and we know how she ended up."

Gobber paused, feeling he's pinned quite enough needles into Stoick's heart. The other man seemed to shrink under his gaze, to die a little inside. The smith felt awful about what he's done, but he knew some wounds had to be opened before they could heal. Stoick's wife was abducted by a dragon, probably because she couldn't bring herself to fight with it. The possibility of his son sharing the same fate was devastating.

"Gobber…" the chief let out a faint whisper. "What have I done?"

The smith smiled sympathetically. "You, my friend," he said, petting Stoick on the shoulder, "may well have raised the first Viking ever to have tamed a Night Fury."

Stoick sighed heavily. "So he put a saddle on a dragon and thought he could change the world. But dragons are untamable, like the fire itself. We've told him that, but he never listened," the chief looked aside, remorse twisting his features. "He'll let his guard down and that dragon will kill him."

"Probably," agreed Gobber. "Or he'll return, along with a whole flock of Night Furies, seeking to convince us they can be trained. The dragons will go berserk, we'll jump at them with all we've got, and die an epic death. Thor almighty, what a glorious death it would be."

That comment brought a shadow of a smile to Stoick's face. "Indeed," he muttered.

Gobber regarded him with kindness. "You know what?" he offered cheerfully. "If there was one Viking who wouldn't kill dragons, there might, impossible as it seems, be one dragon who wouldn't kill a Viking. Who knows what goes on in that black head of its."

Stoick sighed heavily. "If that could be true, Gobber. If only…"

The discussion was brought to an end by the sound of tapping at the door.


	4. Finding what I never sought

It's amazing how much a human can give up on for greater good. It is also amazing how much normality a human can carve out of the most unfavorable circumstances. Yet, the most amazing thing is just how many useful things a woman can find in a wreck of a dragon trappers' ship. Relatively clean cloth – always comes of use. Wool – she still needed it a couple of days every month. Food – it felt nice to eat something other than fish once in a blue moon. Knives, needles, threads, books no decent person should look at – you name it. Everything a crazy vigilante needed and quite a lot she didn't, but utilized regardless. Who could stay in her way?

Satisfied with the results of today's treasure hunting, Valka packed her sack, strapped it to her back, and jumped aboard her dragon comrade. There was just one little thing left to do before they could fly home.

Instructed by his rider, the Stormcutter set the wreck on fire. The dragon trappers may have been their enemies, but they deserved as good a burial ceremony as the circumstances allowed. Valka owed them this simple act of decency for taking their leftovers as bounty. May Hel welcome their wicked souls.

At this point, the rider and the dragon might have returned home. If another source of fire hadn't caught their attention.

They both noticed it. A stream of smoke, soaring into the sky. There was a fire. A camp. Possibly another band of trappers, taking a rest on the land. This called for an investigation. Valka and Cloudjumper did not even have to look at each other to know they agreed on the course of action. They understood each other so well.

Keeping close to the surface of the ocean, Cloudjumper approached the island from which the smoke came. He landed silently on the shore and offered Valka his wing, so she could slide onto the ground. They didn't yet know what they were dealing with, but the smell indicated a single human being. On top of that, a single dragon. Those bits of information were available to Cloudjumper only, but his steady heartbeat and calm expression assured Valka that they had nothing to fear. She didn't need to know everything, as long as the Stormcutter was there to guide her. She trusted his judgment.

The woman went first, moving swiftly and quietly, making sure to stay downwind. Being the smaller of the pair, she had a better chance at approaching the strangers unnoticed. Should she find herself in trouble, her comrade would be by her side before she calls his name. She could swear he sensed her emotions before she became aware of them.

"Toothless! Let it go!"

A voice was heard. A youthful voice. Followed by a series of just as youthful purrs and friendly growls. What a surprising combination.

Valka moved forwards, her curiosity perked. Moments later she positioned herself in a perfect observation spot. And experienced the shock of a lifetime.

Jumping around the clearing was a black, sleek body, equipped with a pair of impressive wings. It moved on four legs, swinging its long tail, holding a piece of green cloth in its jaws.

A Night Fury? Could it be? So they still existed. Odin be blessed.

The human chasing after the dragon was no less intriguing. A boy of roughly 12 years, thin as a stick, with auburn hair and a white loin-cloth – his sole attire at the moment.

"Toothless, come on!" called the boy, struggling to keep up with the frolicking dragon. "I'll throw you a stick, I promise! Just give me back my tunic!"

Valka stared at the scene before her, bewildered like she hadn't been in years. What was a child doing in this desolate place, all alone? Where were his parents? Could they be somewhere near, setting traps? Or did he sneak out of their camp, thinking he could hunt a dragon himself and show them he was a man? Possibly. Boys are stupid creatures.

Running out of breath, the child collapsed. The Night Fury walked over to him and dropped the tunic. Before the boy could utter a word, the dragon's tongue was all over him.

"Argh, Toothless! Stop!" cried the child, pushing the tongue and its owner away. Irritated, he jumped to his feet. "Look what you've done!" he scolded the dragon. "Now I'm gonna need another bath!"

The scolding did not impress the Night Fury, who smiled a toothless smile. That, apparently, calmed the boy down.

"It's alright, bud," he said, coming closer and petting the dragon, who responded to the caress with a purr of satisfaction.

Valka's head was beginning to hurt from the amount of input. Toothless. That was the dragon's name. The boy had named him. So it wasn't just a random dragon who randomly dropped by to play. They were here together. Teasing each other playfully. Interacting with ease. Amazing.

A crazy conclusion was beginning to form in Valka's mind. A human like her? One who understood dragons? Respected them? Earned their trust?

No. This was too beautiful to be true. But then, maybe…?

To be absolutely sure, the woman observed her test subjects for a little longer. The dragon heated the water for the boy to bath in. The boy dried himself by the fireplace and they both ate some fish. The child spoke a lot, treating the Night Fury as an equal partner. Every passing second strengthened Valka's joy. She has found a treasure worth more than all the bounties she's gathered in the last 14 years.

And even that would proof to be an understatement.

"Do you still think about them, bud?" the child addressed his dragon with a hint of remorse. "The dragons from the Nest?"

The Night Fury let out a sorrowful murmur. An affirmative.

"That makes two of us," the boy replied sadly. "I can't help the feeling we could have saved them from that… whatever it was," the remark was followed by a heavy sigh. "But then, what could a hiccup and cripple do against the whole village of stubborn Vikings?"

Valka's heart jumped to her throat. Hiccup? Did he say 'Hiccup'? Did he…?

She looked at him as closely her hiding spot allowed her. She had estimated the boy to be 12 years old, but he might as well have been a scrawny 14 year old. Auburn hair. The face…

A sudden motion startled her. Cloudjumper was approaching.

He had sensed her inner turmoil. And she let it consume her so much she lost contact with the outside world.

"Who's there?" called the boy, alarmed. "What do you want?"

Valka held her breath. She had to know. No matter what.

The woman and the Stormcutter went to face the boy and the Night Fury. Toothless flashed his teeth, warning them to stay away. Hiccup was hastily putting his clothes on, looking terrified.

"We mean you no harm!" he cried. "We were just about to leave! I swear!"

Valka took her helmet off. She could see it right now. Her slender frame. Stoick's eyes. A thin scar below the lower lip – no doubt Cloudjumper's doing.

She pacified Toothless with a simple hand motion. She reached out to touch the cowering boy. The fruit of her very own womb.

"Hiccup…" she whispered. "After all these years…"

A wave of guilt clenched her throat. This was the child she had forsaken. The child she abandoned. The child she no longer had the right to claim as hers. She could see it in his eyes. She was no mother, but a stranger to him. He regarded her with fear. Distrust. Caution.

"Should I know you?"

The question hurt. But she only had herself to blame.

"No," she replied. "You were but a babe. But a mother never forgets."


	5. Astrid in the dragon's den

For a girl so eager to swing her axe, Astrid Hofferson struggled way too much with the task at hand. Somebody who rushed to defend a friend from a Monstrous Nightmare should not be in two minds about approaching said friend's father. What was it that the chief of Berk could do to her that was scarier than being burned to ashes?

Well, he would most definitely yell at her. Maybe accuse her of treason. Possibly outcast her. He may also drag her to her family house, tell her parents what she did, and have them punish her the old fashioned way. Not even her spiked skirt could save her then.

Astrid sighed. She was a Viking. A citizen of Berk. She proudly called herself the Fearless Astrid Hofferson, the number one promoter of the Viking values on the island. If the information she possesses could save her village, it was her sacred duty to disclose said information to the chief. It will not be pleasant, but better than a lifetime of shame at putting her safety before the common good. Shame at letting Stoick the Vast vest all the blame in Hiccup.

Hiccup. That goofball. Pathetic and weak. Always chasing those insane dreams of his, always setting his eyes on prey he couldn't catch, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge how much damage he was causing to his surroundings. The boy was selfish and immature. Quite possibly mad. To fool around during a raid, almost get himself killed, and make sarcastic remarks while being scolded? If Astrid disrespected her father as openly as Hiccup did his, she'd get the belt right there and then.

And somehow this very madman stopped the Sun and moved the Earth.

He found ways of defeating dragons without harming them. Turned his weakness into strength. Questioned the existing world order and forged his own conclusions. He formed a bond with a Night Fury, the most dangerous dragon species of them all. He might have found the way to end the war between the Vikings and dragons. To put a definite end to all this bloodshed and terror.

He could have. But he has ran out of luck.

And now it was up to Astrid to finish what he had started. She owed it to him. To the whole village. Maybe even to the world.

Mustering her courage, the girl knocked at the door.

It seemed like eternity before the chief of Berk opened it.

Astrid felt pathetically vulnerable under the gaze of the enormous man. And he hasn't even begun yelling at her.

"Astrid?" he regarded her with surprise. "What is it?"

The girl swallowed hard. Once she enters this house, all hell is going to break lose. But she would endure it, like the Viking she aspired to be. For the common good. And for Hiccup. But mostly for common good.

"Sir, I need to talk to you," she said with as much seriousness as she could. "It's about Hiccup."

The man furrowed his eyebrows. He has no doubt labeled her a suspect in the case.

"Come on in," he said, his tone dark and unpleasant. He stepped aside, making room for her to move. Astrid bravely walked past him, hoping she did not look as insecure as she felt. It relieved her to notice Gobber at the hearth. The smith might have had a crude sense of humor and questionable teaching methods, but he never let any of his students take more damage than they could handle. Shall she lose control of the situation, he might help her out. Or so she hoped.

Stoick pushed a stool in her direction. She decided not to take advantage of it. She felt small enough the way she was. Especially since the chief apparently had no intention of sitting down.

"What is it about Hiccup?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Astrid stood straight, puffed her chest, and looked the man in the eye. She had one attempt and damn her if she spoils it.

"Chief, the dragons have a Queen," she blurted, upon which the two men's eyes widened. Seizing her chance, the girl spoke on quickly. "She's so huge she could swallow all of Berk in one bite. They have to keep her fed, otherwise they get eaten themselves. This is why they steal our food."

Astrid paused, eying the chief of Berk as intensively as if she wanted to set him on fire. She had to let him know she was serious, had to make him see the whole spectrum of truth. She would get through to him. Or die trying.

Stoick considered her with sheer confusion and shock.

"What?" he managed to utter.

Astrid continued the assault. It seemed like she still could score some points before her opponent begins the counterattack.

"I know, it's crazy, but it's true. I saw the thing with my own eyes. It's a miracle we made it out alive."

Anxiety found its way into the girl's heart as the chief of Berk's face muscles tensed, showing that he has processed the information she bombed him with. And his expression left no doubt as to what kind of conclusions he derived from the story.

"What do you mean by 'we'?" he asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously. His cold stare pierced the containers in which Astrid stored her courage. She tried desperately to clog the invisible leaks, to not let the damage show. She had to be strong. To keep going. To talk.

"We…" she muttered, mentally scolding herself for the weak tone. Once again, louder. "Myself, Hiccup… and…" gods, have mercy, "Toothless."

"Toothless?!" the chief bellowed, his face turning redder than his beard. Astrid stepped back, instantly switching into defense mode.

"I just found out yesterday!" she blurted, no longer mindful of the panic in her voice. "I knew something was going on, so I followed Hiccup, and I saw that dragon! I tried to get away, I wanted to tell you, but they hung me on top of a tree and made me ride along! I had no choice! So we went flying, and I was scared, but then, then, oh, it was amazing… but then Toothless took us to the Nest, and we saw the Queen, and we barely got out alive, and, and… Oh, it's all so messed up."

"Messed up?!" Stoick shouted, agitated. "My son has been harboring a dragon on my island! You knew about it and didn't tell me! You both have been to the dragons' nest, the thing we've been after since Vikings came to Berk, and you didn't tell me! Hiccup might very well be dead by now, eaten by that blasted dragon Queen, or that Night Fury of his! Messed up doesn't even begin to describe this!"

Astrid cowered, terrified by the man's piercing voice and rapid hand movements. The chief was boiling, exploding, filling the entire house with wrath. Yelling like this he really did remind the girl of a Monstrous Nightmare, setting everything in sight on fire. Dear gods, this man was making dragons seem like gentle creatures.

In the meantime Gobber walked over to Stoick, perfectly at ease, and pat the chief on the back.

"Geez, Stoick, calm the hell down," he said jovially. "You are scarring the child."

The other man gave him a warning glare. Still, he seemed calmer than he was a moment ago.

"This CHILD could have saved my son!" he said firmly. "Could have, if only she'd told me all this in time!"

"I've wanted to, chief!" blurted Astrid, hating herself for how weak she sounded. "Hiccup forbade me, because he feared you could hurt Toothless!"

"There you go!" the chief roared, throwing his arms into the air. "My son feared I might hurt his pet dragon, so he put the whole village at risk! He put that blasted dragon above his own tribe! My son! Odin help me!"

Astrid bit her lip as she connected the mental dots. Stoick wasn't angry at her, he was ashamed of himself. Hopeless. Confused.

Armed in the improved strategy and a new load of determination, the girl spoke up.

"Toothless wouldn't hurt Hiccup!" she exclaimed, having no doubt that her words were true. "He is a good dragon! I know it sound crazy, but I saw them interact! I know what I'm saying!"

Stoick's attention fell back on her.

"Did it ever occur to you that this Toothless was an exception?!" he demanded, despair evident in his voice. "That the methods that worked on him may not necessarily work on other dragons? What sort of an idiot approaches a Monstrous Nightmare without a weapon knowing how much damage it can cause?! Don't you kids have brains or what?!"

The man's inner turmoil was showing more and more. Astrid was beginning to feel sorry for him – the father forsaken by his only son. Humiliated in front of the whole village. Terrified for his child's life. There was no mistaking it now – he did blame himself for what happened to Hiccup.

It was time to apply some diplomacy.

"I admit it, chief, that was stupid," said Astrid, her tone calm and firm. "And crazy. I am profoundly sorry for participating in this scheme. I do realize I had put the village at risk. However, I felt I could trust Hiccup. I thought, if he proved his thesis, he could end this war. Put an end to bloodshed. Free Berk from the terror once and for all. May the gods forgive me, but I did believe the potential gain was worth the risk."

The young Viking finished her speech with a lowered head and relaxed stance. She wanted to show she acknowledged her guilt, yet underline that her intentions were good. Hiccup's father was in position to judge her, and she would not deny him the right. Yet, she hoped he would take into consideration all the factors. And make his decision based on the whole picture, including the parts he would rather ignore.

Stoick seemed unsure as to what to do about her. There was sadness on his face, tiredness. The conversation was wearing him out. The sight touched Astrid, but also cheered her up. Some wounds have to be ripped open before they can heal. Perhaps that was the case with Stoick.

Gobber chose this moment to approach his friend again and attempt to lighten the mood.

"The girl has a point, Stoick," he said, offering the chief a smile. Hiccup's father sighed. He was not going to argue. He knew he has lost.

"Alright," he whispered, raising his gaze at the girl before him. "You said the Night Fury would never have hurt Hiccup?"

"Yes Sir," confirmed Astrid. "Of that I'm certain."

"The Night Fury showed you the dragons' Nest, along with a Queen who made all the other dragons bring her food?"

"Yes Sir. They are her slaves. They don't eat any of that themselves."

"In other words, if we killed the Queen, the dragon plague would stop?"

"Possibly. Though it's out of question. It was Toothless who flew us to the Nest, I won't find it on my own. And even so, not even a whole armada would stand a chance against this monster. She's way too big."

Silence ensured after this statement.

"In other words," concluded Stoick, "there is nothing we can do."

"I'm afraid so, Sir," Astrid nodded sadly.

"But Hiccup may still be alive?"

"Yes Sir. I'm sure Toothless watches over him."

"Do you think he'd come back?"

The amount of hope and pain coming from Stoick made Astrid's heart bleed. She so wanted to tell him everything would be alright. She so wanted somebody to tell this to her. Alas, it was not going to happen.

"I don't know, Sir," admitted the girl sadly. "I don't know."

Stoick looked down.

"What am I to do now?"

The question wasn't directed at Astrid. It was merely a voicing of the chief's despair. Which still touched the girl to the core. Vikings were not keen on showing weakness to anybody. She'd never think she'd witness a grown man bare his soul like this. Nor that she will actually empathize. Gods, the world was falling apart. But it didn't really matter anymore.

Thank all of you for the miracle of Gobber. There had to be somebody capable of rekindling the flame of hope.

"Send your ships after him for a start," the smith told his friend. "Better that than sit and wait, neh?"

Stoick sighed heavily.

"Gobber, it's a Night Fury he's with. You saw how fast that thing was. They may well have flown to the end of the world by now."

"In that case – we'll have to use dragons."

This suggestion, surprisingly, came from Astrid.

The two men eyed her in disbelief.

"What?"

"Train them," explained the girl. "Ride them. Like Hiccup did. Seems like our best option now."

She did not seem entirely convinced of her own idea. It was crazy, she knew. Not even Hiccup has trained anything but a Night Fury. She had no idea how exactly he achieved this much. For all she knew the dragons they had might just go for the kill. Still, there seemed to be no better option at the moment.

Stoick and Gobber exchanged meaningful glances. Their thoughts mirrored Astrid's, she could see it.

"Child, be serious," Stoick told her calmly. "You'll get yourself killed."

"Maybe," she admitted. "But if Hiccup could train a dragon, maybe I can train one as well. And if I can, then anybody else can. And if we all get to fly on dragons, we might stand a chance at defeating their Queen. I may be crazy, chief, but the potential gain is worth the risk."

Speaking like this, Astrid was beginning to gain confidence in the endeavor. It was crazy, sure. But it did take madness to change the world. And there was no way she would let Hiccup beat her in that department. She did have her pride.

Gobber grinned in amusement and satisfaction.

"That's a fine Viking we've got in here, Stoick."

The chief of Berk shook his head. Still, there was a shy smile growing beneath his moustache.

"Gods help me, Gobber, but I have to agree. We're going to the Arena."

Astrid smiled to herself. She has defeated the worst dragon of all. Everything else will be a spoonful of parfait.


	6. Hiccup in the dragon's den

Hiccup awoke to the scent of smoke, accompanied by the sound of metal rubbing against metal. Intertwined by a begging scowl.

"Aw, come on!" cried Valka, desperately trying to detach the sizzling mass from the breastplate that hung over the hearth. Wielding a crowbar in one hand, having wrapped the other in cloth, she fought with the extraordinary unlikely cauldron. A satisfied smile warmed the woman's face as she grabbed a helmet from the floor and swiftly moved the breastplate's content into it.

"Yes!" she cried, visibly proud with the achievement. At this point she turned and noticed that her son was observing her in surprise.

"Hiccup! You're up!" she exclaimed happily. She threw the crowbar to the floor and grabbed another helmet, which she must have previously filled. "How do you like your eggs: ashes or buggers?" she asked with a disarming smile.

Hiccup couldn't help but smile in return. At least she had good intentions.

When he first learned the woman was his mother he couldn't believe it. He's always been told that his mother was eaten by dragons when he was just a baby.

"Abducted, yes," admitted the woman. "But not eaten."

She spoke in an unsure, monotone voice, struggling to maintain eye contact. As if she came from a foreign land and did not trust her knowledge of Hiccup's language and culture. The young Viking was beginning to worry about his and Toothless' wellbeing.

Though he had to admit – her words matched what he's been told. His father saw her – if she was indeed who she claimed to be – taken away by a dragon during a raid. Not eaten. The latter was a simplification. And might have been a wrongful one.

The woman smiled encouragingly, indicating her own dragon. "Come. I'll show you something."

Hiccup demanded she answers his questions first, but the feral lady insisted on moving to a different location first. She claimed he won't really understand anything she says until he has seen it with his own eyes. The boy didn't like it, but his curiosity proved to be stronger than reason. He mounted Toothless and they flew after his supposed mother. It wasn't like they had anything to lose.

The woman lead them through a labyrinth of ice and a maze of caves, into – for the lack of better word – a dragon Valhalla. The place was enormous, full of green rock pillars and light blue water. There were cliffs, and waterfall, and most of all – dragons. More than Hiccup has ever seen. Various species, sizes and colors, flying, walking and resting, all in absolute serenity. The sight was breathtaking.

Hiccup understood why his mother was so reluctant to speak of this place. He had a hard time finding the right words to describe his own impressions of it.

As he absorbed the mysterious land with all his senses, and Toothless found himself surrounded by curious dragons, the feral lady proceeded to explain. This was where she's been. What she's been doing. Watching over the Sanctuary. Looking after the dragons. Saving them from dragon trappers. Observing and learning their customs and secrets.

At one point she turned to her son.

"Are you upset?" she asked, sounding almost like a child who got caught on misbehaving.

Hiccup had a hard time deciding what he thought of her. He was amazed with what she's shown him – it was hard not to be. Yet, this place was what kept her away from him all these years. These dragons robbed him off his mother.

The feral lady understood this much. It was obvious that she took great pride in what she did. Yet, at the same time, she looked like she realized she should be ashamed of herself. Realized she had hurt him by choosing this lifestyle.

Hiccup honestly couldn't tell whether he wanted to condemn her or hero-worship her. This was just too much to take in.

"I don't know," he said finally. "It's not every day you find out your mother is some sort of crazy, feral, vigilante dragon lady."

The woman chuckled. "At least I'm not boring. But then, the same can be said about you," her expression turned to that of worry and curiosity. "What are you doing so far away from home, Hiccup? With a Night Fury? How did that happen?"

Hiccup sighed. He still wasn't sure if he could trust her. If he wanted to trust her. But it seemed like this woman – his mother – just might understand his problems. Might be able to help. Perhaps confiding into somebody was what he needed.

So Hiccup told her. Of what a lousy Viking he was. Of how he dreamt of killing a dragon. Of earning the people's acknowledgement. How, when he finally brought one down, he just couldn't kill him.

At this point, the woman nodded in understanding, her expression bearing guilt and sorrow. "It must be a family thing," she concluded.

Hiccup wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but decided to finish his story first. He proceeded to explain how he had planned to never fight dragons again, only to have his father force him into dragon slaying training. How he found out Toothless couldn't fly. How he befriended the dragon and invented the prosthetic tail. How Toothless had shown him the dragons' nest, along with the vicious queen. How he had hoped to show to the entire community that dragons were trainable and how his father ruined it by spooking the Monstrous Nightmare.

"I'm not surprised," Valka sighed sadly. "It must have reminded him of the day he lost me."

She then proceeded to reveal the truth behind her disappearance. She had believed peace was possible. That Vikings did not have to kill dragons. That they could have found another way, if they only tried. Then, one night, a dragon broke into their house and found him in the cradle. She rushed to protect him, only to discover the dragon observing him with curiosity.

"It wasn't a vicious beast, but an intelligent, gentle creature, whose soul reflected my own."

The scar below Hiccup's lower lip was a souvenir from that encounter. Cloudjumper had cut him unintentionally. The abduction of his mother, however, was by all means intentional.

"But Cloudjumper didn't mean to harm me," insisted Valka. "He must have thought I belonged here."

This story struck Hiccup right in the heart. He now understood why his father reacted the way he did. And felt like the worst spoilt brat in the world. How much damage he's caused. How much pain. Not just recently, throughout his life.

Suddenly Hiccup sympathized with his mother and the need to get away from the world. If you hurt the ones you love with everything you do, if you can't be what they want of you, what options do you have? To leave seemed like the best solution for all.

At the same time Hiccup wished his mother had been there for him. For his father. They could have been a family. Could have been happy.

Could they really? He really couldn't tell. His head was hurting from the thinking. As if the heartache wasn't bad enough.

Those feelings were temporarily shoved aside as his mother approached Toothless. Caressed him. The dragon responded well to her touch, purring and rubbing himself against her.

"Look!" exclaimed Valka, indicating Toothless' chin. "He's your age! No wonder you get along so well."

Hiccup had to admit – that was impressive.

But the real impressive thing was yet to come. His mother lead him to the cliff and showed him the king of the Bewilderbeast – the king of the sanctuary.

The dragon was enormous. Massive, with huge tusks. He looked like a huge glacier, yet emanated an aura of warmth and kindness.

Valka explained that this individual was the alpha, the one to rule them all. He had built the Sanctuary and defended all of its inhabitants. He treated them with generosity and care. He didn't even mind the baby dragons playing around him.

As the giant turned to the newcomers, Valka bowed to him. So did Toothless, clearly intimidated by the majesty. The king regarded Hiccup with interest and breathed a little breath of ice at him.

"He likes you," chuckled Valka.

Hiccup thought the local dragons were lucky compared to those he left at home. If only the vicious queen was more like the Bewilderbeast. All of their problems would disappear.

It occurred to Hiccup that the white giant could help them. Defeat the evil queen. Without the queen, there would be no dragon raids. No bloodshed. And with dragons and Vikings living in peace, he would be able to go home. With Toothless. And maybe with his mother.

Excited with the vision, the boy disclosed it to his mother. Much to his disappointment, she showed little enthusiasm.

"It saddens me that all those dragons have to die for their queen's greed," she said. "But the problem will not disappear even if she does. Killing dragons is Berk's culture. You can't single-handedly change the mindset of the whole society."

"Who said anything about single-handedly?" exclaimed Hiccup, determined to pass his passion onto her. "We will change it together!"

Valka's eyes widened. "What?"

"Think about it, mom!" the boy spoke on cheerfully. "I ride Toothless, you ride Cloudjumper, we bring along all of your dragons, and we land in the middle of the village. A whole flock of dragons who do not attack people. This ought to give them food for thoughts!"

Despite his burning enthusiasm, the woman remained skeptical.

"You have good intentions, Hiccup. But this is not gonna work."

"WHY?" the boy scowled. "You think people could ignore the truth if it's shoved right into their eyes?"

"Yes," answered the woman without hesitation. "I have learned it the hard way."

Hiccup dropped his arms. He was losing this battle. And running out of ideas of improving his situation.

"We could go home," he said in a weak voice. "Be a family again."

He looked at his mother pleadingly. He found much sorrow in her eyes, much regret and pain. But no hope.

"If only it were possible, Hiccup," she whispered, shaking her head. "If only."

The lack of cooperation on her behalf was beginning to irritate him. Seriously.

His grumpy face was met with a faint smile.

"I'm sorry, son," said Valka calmly. "I wish I could help you. But the world just isn't perfect. Berk is a land of kill or be killed. You and me… we…" she hesitated, "Some of us are just born different."

If that was supposed to be a consolation, it wasn't working.

Valka must have realized it, for she suddenly became more lively.

"You could stay with me," she suggested, smiling shyly. "With the dragons. I could teach you all that I know. We could study them together. As mother and son," at this point she beamed obviously excited for the prospect. She then hopped over to Toothless and pet him at the base of his neck. The fins that grew along the dragon's spine grew bigger and parted into halves.

"Now you will be able to turn more rapid turns," concluded Valka, pleased with the result. Toothless was no less excited, clapping his newly discovered double fins, grinning like a child who has just received a new toy.

"You knew about this?" Hiccup asked his comrade. The Night Fury paid little attention to him, way too busy admiring his own back. He obviously had no idea he's had something like this. And loved it to bits.

"Every dragon has its' secret," commented Valka. "I could show them all to you," she hesitated before approaching her son. "If you would only allow me."

Hiccup sighed. He still wished his mother would listen to him. Wished she would agree to go home and help him change Berk. He could convince her if he tried harder. He knew he could.

But then, what if she was right? What if things weren't the way he saw them? Would his father want him back? Would the community listen to him?

Astrid did.

Right, he hasn't told his mother about Astrid. He didn't think it was necessary. But maybe he should have, after all?

No. Not yet. It's too much too soon. He needed to think things over. Give his mother time to think things over. If there was anything they had in excess, it was time.

Hiccup smiled, his answer painting on his face. The woman before him may have been a crazy, feral, vigilante dragon lady. Still, he wanted to get to know her. To learn from her. To have a mother again.

So he agreed to stay with her. And the moment he did, she pulled him into a tight embrace.

He hugged her back, genuinely happy for the first time since he left Berk.

This story just might get a happy ending after all.


	7. Catching up with son

Valka observes her son when he sleeps. She watches closely, wishing to memorize every detail of him. He has Stoick's eyes and earlobes. Probably Stoick's cheekbones – those are definitely not hers. The lips and hair – that he got from her. And maybe the jaw line. It will probably square with age, but the general shape is hers.

It's a beautiful son she bore. And she was never there for him.

Every feature of his 14-year-old face shouted accusations at her. Reminded her just how much she's missed. She never got to hear his first word. Missed his first steps. First fallen tooth. She didn't comfort him when he hurt himself or made sure his clothes were clean. He owed her nothing but a bunch of physical features.

The realization hurt.

Still, he was with her now. And she enjoyed every moment spent with him.

The first night remorse kept her awake. She wanted to do something for him, something special. She couldn't offer him much in the culinary department, but she was rather skillful with the needle – thus, by the time Hiccup got up, she's finished a furry overcoat for him. He liked it very much. And repaid the favor the very same day by re-forging some of her battle equipment into kitchenware. She wasn't prepared for this much emotions.

They are awkward around each other, but the mutual curiosity is strong. Hiccup obviously has mixed feelings about her, but he refrains from condemning her – which she greatly appreciates. He wants to learn from her and she is more than willing to teach. She also discovers something new about him every step of the way.

She loves the way his eyes shine when she shows him a new trick. He absorbs knowledge like a sponge, and the conclusions he forms amaze her. He is inquisitive and observant, just like her, and that makes her swell with pride. He has a quick wit and a sarcastic sense of humor, which makes her heart soar. And the bond he shares with his Night Fury gives her feelings she cannot assign a name to.

No dragon species ever fascinated her more than her son.

The days they spend exploring the Sanctuary, dragons and outside world. On evenings they exchange stories. He tells her of his childhood, she tells him of her youth. And every story shows how much they have in common.

Until now she's been convinced he'd grow into a typical Viking. But all this time he took after her.

Hiccup misses Berk. Yet, he feels more and more at home with her. Little by little he will accept the fate they share. He will find peace. She knows, because she's been there. She adjusted, and so will he.

Of that she is convinced. Until their past storms into their lives.


	8. Here we come

This was a good day for flying. Valka had decided to take her squadron on a long flight, for reconnaissance purposes. She was going to leave Hiccup at the Sanctuary, but he insisted on coming along.

"Son, it will not be leisure cruise," she explained. "We will be doing our job. We may encounter enemy ships, armed warriors we'll have to fight, traps we'll have to defuse, or trapped dragons we'll have to help. We may have to carry them all the way to the Sanctuary. We may – gods forbid – have to administer the last aid. Do you understand, Hiccup?"

That seemed to lessen his enthusiasm somewhat. The idea of having to end a dragon's life – even if there wasn't much thereof left – was deeply disturbing.

When the boy raised his eyes at her, his expression was uncertain. "How long would you be gone?" he asked worriedly.

"Most of the day, I'm afraid," she said, doing her best not to make it sound like a tragedy. "But we will go flying together tomorrow. Practice dodging. So you and Toothless would know how to defend yourselves from the trappers. How does that sound?"

Hiccup didn't look particularly convinced. The idea of spending the whole day without her probably didn't excite him all that much. She also felt guilty about leaving him alone now that they were starting to really get along. Still, she doubted she could focus on patrolling with him around. She'd fear for his safety.

"So you would take us on reconnaissance some other time?" the boy asked, proving Valka's assumptions. He just didn't want to be left out. Her poor baby.

"Yes," she confirmed, smiling sincerely. "Once you've ready. I promise."

Hiccup considered the idea for a moment, his expression serious and concerned. In the end, he smiled back at his mother. "Deal," he said.

"That's my boy," she said and hugged him goodbye. Very long and very tight.

It was a brand new experience. Leaving for work knowing somebody would be waiting for her at home. As much as she loved the dragons, there had always been this void in her heart they could never fill. Small, yet noticeable. Like a seed caught in between teeth. She may have found peace in the Sanctuary, she may have lead a satisfactory life, but no mother ever could entirely forget her child. They shared blood, and – as it turned out – a special gift. Something unique and irreplaceable.

Valka could not change her past. Yet, she was certain that she would never abandon her child again. She's been away for far too long.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she told him. "You stay here and be good."

"Okay, Mom," he replied. "Be safe."

Oh, she would. There was much she still had to do.

Her conscience somewhat calmed, the vigilante took her squadron and left, convinced she'll be back in time to kiss Hiccup goodnight.

However, being new to motherhood, she failed to take a certain factor into consideration – teenage boys have an innate tendency to disobey.

(…)

"What do you say, bud? You wanna stay here and be good, or do you wanna go and try make this world a better place?"

"Gru?"

"My thoughts exactly, bud! If the feral, vigilante, dragon lady won't come to Berk, we'll just have to make Berk come to the feral, vigilante, dragon lady."

"Gru!"

"We'll take my dad for the start. If he won't listen, we'll just have to force him. Think you could snatch him from the ground and bring here?"

"GRU!"

"Ouch!"

(…)

This time they would make it.

They have already gone beyond the area covered by the map, and they would go even further. They were prepared. They had supplies. Equipment. And most of all – determination.

Some said Hiccup may already be dead, but Astrid would respond to such suggestions with a death glare. Toothless would protect him. Heck, the boy could very well look out for himself. He was like a cockroach – such a pathetic little nothing who had an extraordinary talent for cheating death. There was not a thing in the world Hiccup and Toothless had to fear, as long as they were together.

Maybe apart from the Queen of the Dragons' Nest. But they knew they had to avoid that one.


	9. The ride of our lives

Astrid was sure she was leading her team to find the first Viking to have ridden a dragon.

Now it seemed the exact opposite thing happened – the first Viking to have ridden a dragon ever found them. And it was not Hiccup.

In all honesty, it might not even have been a Viking. Or a human being.

The mysterious figure stood on top of a huge, four-winged dragon. Wore a mask that reminded of said dragon's head. Wielded a long staff with a twisted end. Seemed perfectly calm and secure.

Until he or she waved the staff. The gesture summoned a whole flock of dragons who surrounded Astrid, Snotlout, and their dragons.

Snotlout wanted to fight. But the mysterious rider emerged right in front of Hookfang's nose and calmed the Monstrous Nightmare down with a mere touch of a hand.

This was somebody experienced they were dealing with. This much was obvious.

Since the stranger had a whole flock of dragon's at command, and so far hasn't hurt any of them, the young Viking concluded it was for the best if they play along. Thus they allowed themselves to be escorted to a spacious cave hidden in a huge mountain composed of snow and ice.

It wasn't a minute later that another flock of dragons deposited Fishlegs, the twins, and their dragons onto the floor. The whole team was caught.

Their captor whirled its staff. Its dragons opened their fire-filled mouths, filling the cave with bright orange light. The Viking teens all neared themselves to their dragons and to each other, united in anxiety and astonishment. They had thought themselves dragon experts. Now they found themselves at the mercy of this bizarre clothed warrior. Who apparently had a whole army at disposal.

Fishlegs couldn't stand the tension. He pulled a handful of garlic grass and extended his arm, shivering. The Gronckle at his side looked at it with gusto. The stranger crooked its head.

They managed to surprise it.

Astrid scooped the helmet off Fishlegs' head and held it protruding-side out. Light beam. Dragons follow light beams. But with so many different sources of light, will the trick work?

She looked up. The stranger observed them, seemingly intrigued. Good. Let it know they are not completely new to this business.

Astrid spoke first. "We mean you no harm. We hope the wish is mutual," she said firmly. Anxiety was clenching her inside, but she'd sooner die than let it show.

The stranger considered them in silence for a long, heavy moment. Then it spoke up.

"Why did you come here?"

The voice was feminine rather than masculine. The tone seemingly indifferent. There was no anger, no hostility. Their chances at survival increased by a few points.

And possibly dropped below zero the moment Tuffnut opened his mouth.

"Come here?" he snorted. "Hello! You brought us here!"

"Yeah!" Ruffnut supported her twin eagerly. "You tell us why we're here!"

Astrid felt like killing them both. But first she had to save their lives. "We're looking for a friend of ours!" she declared. "He's ran away from home with his dragon, we just want to bring them both safely home!"

Astrid's whole team nodded in support.

The girl could feel the stranger's attention drill into her. "A friend of yours" the masked warrior stated blankly.

"Yes!" confirmed Astrid. "A boy our age, thin, flaky, with sleek brown hair. Have you seen anybody like this?"

"Please, Astrid," scowled Fishlegs. "Hiccup's hair is auburn. Not brown. That is a major difference."

Astrid sent him a death glare. The big-boned boy stepped back, shivering.

"Okay, I'm not saying anything," he assured, hugging his Gronckle for comfort. The dragon licked his face with affection.

Astrid's attention darted back to the mysterious rider. Just in time to see the strange woman approach them.

The girl instinctively wanted to put distance between herself and the hermit. The woman must have sensed it, fur she offered some comforting words.

"Fear not, child. I mean you no harm."

The mysterious figure stopped. And, as far as Astrid could tell, took a good look at all of them. As if trying to determine whether she could trust them or not. As if she was looking for something. Or maybe trying to dominate them. It was impossible to tell. But it wasn't pleasant.

The stranger's attention focused on Snotlout. The boy swallowed hard.

"You must be Spitelout Jorgenson's son," concluded the stranger indifferently.

Snotlout's eyes widened. "Huh? Well, yes I am, but…?"

But the stranger was already moving away from him, her attention falling on Astrid. "Is your mother Mist Hvitrhraun, by any chance?"

Astrid struggled to find her voice. "H-how'd you know?" the stranger was giving her creeps. Seriously. Whoever she was, she knew just too much.

The masked warrior moved over to the twins. "You two. Children of Buffbuck Thorston?"

The twins snorted. And moved into laughter so hysterical they bent into halves.

That, at least, surprised the hell out of the stranger.

"You've heard it, Tuff?" asked Ruffnut, holding her stomach. "Buffbuck Thorston!"

"Ma'am!" exclaimed Tuffnut mockingly. "You fell off last year's Snoggletog tree or what?! Buffbuck's been gone for years!"

"The buff half of him, at least," Ruffnut cut in, very amused. "We call him Bucket now!"

"Cause he wears a bucket on his head!" added Tuffnut. "To protect the half of brain he has left!"

"He doesn't even know who we are, you know?" chuckled Ruffnut. "And he's easier to fool than a child!"

"Yeah!" exclaimed Tuffnut. "I've got him to give me a tattoo, just like that! Mother has no idea!"

"And he never scolds us!"

"Never forbids us anything!"

"Never says 'do that'!"

"Never says 'don't do that'!

"He thinks we're his friends, not kids!"

"He's the best father ever!"

"Right on, bro!"

"Sis!"

The twins headbutted each other so hard they both lost balance.

Astrid rolled her eyes.

The stranger remained dumbfounded.

Fishlegs shifted nervously. "Umh, my father's name is Pincers Ingerman. Though you probably know that."

"Great!" Snotlout clapped his hands and pointed at the stranger. "Now, since you already know who we are, how about telling us who YOU are?" he demanded, staring at the woman fiercely.

She slowly turned her head at him. Then slightly down. Then let out a sigh. And lifted her hands to her mask. The face she revealed to the young Vikings was a pretty one. With prominent cheekbones, big eyes, and thin lips. Signs of aging only beginning to appear.

"Valka Wrinkly," she announced in a blank tone. "Better known as Valka the Reckless. Though that probably doesn't tell you much."

The face and names didn't ring a bell at first. If the woman had lived on Berk, she must have left before the teens were old enough to remember her. She also must have been a fairly useless Viking, since no stories were told of her achievements. Viking culture only praised bravery and combat skills. Especially in slaying dragons. You didn't kill a dragon – you weren't worth remembering. Period.

Yet, after a couple of seconds, the dots begun to connect. Valka. Valka the Reckless…

Snotlout's eyes widened. "No way," he blurted. "You are Hiccup's mother?!"

"WHAT?!" cried Astrid. She stared at the woman. Hiccup's mother? Really? There were similarities, sure. But how…?

"Of course!" exclaimed Fishlegs, suddenly joyful. "Valka the Skullcrusher! The hero of one battle! That was my favorite story growing up!"

The other teens and Valka herself eyed him in surprise.

"Oh, come on!" the boy scowled. "You must have heard it! It's the best hero story ever!"

"No, we haven't," said Astrid, irritated.

"I have," said Snotlout, unimpressed. "And there ain't a thing to get excited about. Some stupid pirates attacked Berk in the middle of the night, the chief told his wife stay at home – cause she was a troublemaker, just like Hiccup – and she followed him into the battle – cause she was just like Hiccup – and almost got herself killed – again, just like Hiccup. A pirate tried cut her into halves, but she jumped back and his sword got stuck in the tree. As he was trying to pull it out she grabbed his shield and turned his skull into blood sausage. The chief yelled at her, but then gave her the sword of the guy she killed, and proclaimed her as a hero. No wonder you've never heard of it, who'd want to remember such a disgrace?"

Fishlegs revolted at these words. "Disgrace yourself!" he shouted furiously. "This story teaches us that everybody can become a hero! That even the weakest, most useless Viking can accomplish great things! Have his own moment of glory! One moment to justify his life! THIS," he pointed a finger right at Snotlout's nose, "is what Valka the Skullcrusher teaches us! Do you understand?!"

Snotlout was speechless. So was everybody else. Fishlegs rarely ever got angry. But when he did – gods help anybody who got on his nerves.

Valka – if it really was her – chuckled. "I'm flattered, young Ingerman. Although that deed was reckless rather than heroic."

Her comment drew everybody's attention again.

"So you really are Hiccup's mother?" Astrid asked.

The woman nodded, smiling weakly.

"How…" stuttered Fishlegs. "How did you survive?"

The woman indicated the dragon nearest to herself. "Cloudjumper never meant to harm me," she explained. "He must have thought I belonged here."

The dragon seemed to be smiling at her.

The teens exchanged glances. This story was totally bizarre. But then, was it any more farfetched than that of Hiccup and Toothless?

"Is Hiccup here?" Astrid blurted, her heart pounding. "Is he with you?" Gods above, let the answer be yes. Let it be yes.

Valka's beaming face solved all of her doubts. "Come. I'll take you to him."

Astrid breathed a sigh of relief. Hiccup was alive. And he has found his mother. This made her happy beyond reason.

For about five minutes they needed to establish that Hiccup was nowhere to be found.

(…)

While the older men played cards, Eret kept his eyes on the sky and his hands on the trigger. Being the youngest in their crew, he was most frequently appointed for guard duty, but he didn't mind. His colleagues might have been too proud to admit it, but he knew they realized he was the best shooter of them all. Equipped in great analytical skills and even greater reflexes, he saw things they could not, made decisions in split seconds, and hardly ever missed a target. Moreover, he was ambitious and eager to work. To hunt down something real impressive. Something that would earn him the title of the best dragon trapper ever.

The perfect chance appeared in the corner of his eyes.

His body reacted automatically. Estimate speed. Estimate distance. Adjust the position. Pull.

Right in the black shape that bolted through the sky.

Enthusiastic about the catch, Eret hurried to call the crew. They had a dragon to fetch.

(…)

Hiccup hardly saw what hit him. All of a sudden he and Toothless were blown out of their course, sent into turbulences. The world spun around, they screamed, struggled, panicked. And made contact with the ground.

(…)

The boy could hardly see anything. Everything was blurry. His brain pulsing with pain. The moment he tried to move a lightening of agony perforated his body. Starting from the left leg.

His left leg was below Toothless.

This was all he registered before he fainted.


	10. Grounded

Hiccup felt as if a storm cloud circulated inside him. His head felt so heavy, his entire body so numb. With the exception of notorious pulsing on his left side.

He made the mistake of trying to move. A blast of stinging pain nailed him to the ground. Or floor. Or whatever it was that he was laying on.

"Here," a foreign voice said. "This should ease the pain."

Hiccup hardly managed to open his eyes enough to recognize the basic shape of a cup. He grabbed it without a second thought. Somebody's strong arm lifted his head, helping him to drink. The substance was bitter, but the boy swallowed it hastily. It hurt him way too much to consider his actions.

Once he has emptied the cup, the stranger took it away.

"It's too early to determine whether your leg will heal or not," said the foreign voice. "But if you were lucky enough to get out of that crash alive, I suppose you'll be fine."

Hiccup closed his eyes, desperate to free himself from the buzzing underneath his skull. What has happened? Where was he? Where was…?

"Toothless…" the boy muttered, realization forcing all other thoughts aside. "My dragon, where is he?"

The foreign voice snickered. "Toothless? That thing has a name?"

Hiccup clenched his fists and rose on his elbows. "Where is my dragon?!" he roared, fueled by pain and anger. His gaze fell on a very surprised face of a young man. The stranger was tall, broad-shouldered, with sleek black hair. And clearly didn't expect such ferocity from a young boy.

A rustling sound emerged from Hiccup's side. The boy turned his head. All he saw was whiteness. All around him. White linen. So a tent. But those noises outside?

The stranger approached the wall from behind which the noises came. Shoved the curtain aside, letting in coldness. Hiccup looked through the gap the man created.

And gasped.

Toothless was chained to what appeared to be a movable platform. Chained by all four paws and neck. Another chain entwined his corpus, binding the wings. The dragon's muzzle was also bound closed. And his eyes frightened.

"Toothless!" yelled Hiccup in despair. And shrieked in pain, which reminded him that he too was bound. By a different sort of chains.

"Keep calm!" reminded him the young man. "You still might lose that leg if you're not careful!"

Hiccup groaned, trying to sort the information in his buzzing head. Leg. His leg. What happened to it?

Heart trembling, the boy looked forwards. He noticed that he was laying on a bed of sort. A heap of pillows kept his left leg erected. The leg itself was wrapped in silk, stabilized by two solid sticks.

Hiccup's eyes widened in terror. This couldn't be happening.

The sound of steps told him the stranger was nearing himself to his bed.

"I have to say, you perked my curiosity, lad," said the man in a smug voice. "How did you manage to capture a Night Fury?"

Hiccup hesitated. He was only beginning to grasp the situation, but it was evident he the stranger was a dragon trapper. His mother had warned him about them. About the traps she sought and destroyed. About dragons shipped off in cages and chains. Forts being built nearer and nearer the Sanctuary.

Gods only knew what would happen to him and Toothless now.

They couldn't fight. Couldn't escape. With his leg like this, he couldn't maneuver Toothless' tail fin. They were grounded like potatoes.

Hiccup felt something break inside him.

"Release him, please," he moaned hopelessly at the dragon trapper.

The man snorted. "Release a Night Fury? And have it kill us all?"

Hiccup lifted himself on his elbows, his eyes fixing on the stranger. He could get himself and Toothless out of this. He had to.

"Toothless won't hurt you," he insisted. "If I ask him not to, he won't."

The stranger stared him down, annoyed. "Ask him?" he asked in an insolent tone. "Kid, it's a vicious beast you're talking about."

"Dragons are NOT vicious beasts!" revolted Hiccup, erupting with anger. "They are kind, gentle creatures! They have a personality! They CAN be befriended! You just have to show them some trust!"

The boy stared at his captor, teeth flashing, eyes burning with passion. The young man was still looking at him as if he were crazy. Yet, some sort of heavy thinking was going on under that shining mass of black hair. Hiccup was scoring some points. And was bent on winning this battle.

The dragon trapper spoke after a brief pause. "Dragons can be forced into obedience, this much is true," he stated, his eyes already challenging Hiccup to argue against the thesis. "But befriended? Given how they can burn down whole villages? Robb people of their sheep and cattle? Destroy ships?" the man went on, circling Hiccup's bed. "Do you honestly believe creatures capable of such destruction can be turned into house pets? I don't."

Hiccup stared him dead in the eye. "I was riding a Night Fury, wasn't I?"

This much the stranger could not argue against.

"Right," admitted the trapper. He was regarding Hiccup with intense curiosity, stealing peaks at the chain-bound Toothless. He must have noticed fear in the dragon's eyes. Not just fear, concern for Hiccup. Hope for Hiccup. The boy certainly could feel the support his comrade was offering him. This was what made him so powerful.

The stranger returned to Hiccup's side with a stool and sat on it.

"Well then, lad," he said seriously. "Tell me the whole story."

Hiccup smiled triumphantly. Things were starting to look good.

It wasn't a second later that the man froze. Quite literally froze. Stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Turned pale. Like an ice statue.

That got Hiccup seriously worried.

Something appeared beside the stranger. A dragon. Green, with bright red eyes and sail-like appendages on its head. Eying the boy curiously.

Hiccup gulped.

A familiar sound hit his ear. The strange vibration. The swift movement. By the time the boy looked to where the tent exit was, the green dragon was already standing beside the figure wielding a long staff.

"Mom!" exclaimed Hiccup, happy to see her. Then, remembering the fate of his captor, he dropped his smile. "What did you do to him?"

Valka didn't answer. She rushed to his side, taking her mask off. Her eyes were wide with terror as she regarded his leg. Then his face. Hiccup tried to smile reassuringly.

"Mom, I'm fine," he said. "But this man here, will he live?"

Valka seemed to slowly relax. Only to clench her muscles in anger a moment later.

"He is paralyzed," she said blankly. "And will remain so for about 24 hours. So will the others. But you…" she neared herself to Hiccup, staring at him angrily. "You, young man, are grounded till Ragnarok."

Hiccup's eyes widened. He did not see that coming.

"Hiccup!" a voice emerged from the outside. A very familiar voice.

A moment later the tent was full. Of Astrid. And Snotlout, and Fishlegs, and the twins. And they were all around him.

"You're alive!"

"There he is!"

"Thank Odin!"

"Man, you sure put us through some hard work!"

"Yeah!"

The boy looked around, still not quite sure if this really was happening. His friends. They were here. They shouldn't be. He left them on Berk.

"H... how?"

"You should thank Astrid!" exclaimed Fishlegs excitedly. "She told us we could train dragons – and we did!"

The big boned boy was squeaking like a little girl. And Hiccup staring at him in confusion. "You what?" he muttered, his attention moving to Astrid. She had so much concern on her face. But also so much joy. Joy at seeing him.

"I went to your father," she confessed in a touched voice. "Told him everything I knew. Gobber backed me up – he had found your notebook in the forgery. And we got him to let me train dragons!"

The girl was euphoric, as if she still couldn't believe she could have achieved something like this. Neither did Hiccup. To get his father to listen to her? Gods above, this deserved a hymn of praise.

Ruffnut cut in next. "And she gathered us all!" she chirped merrily. "Told us to go and try! And man, was it a blast!"

"Yeah!" Tuffnut exclaimed in approval. "Vikings and dragons, together! Madness at its finest!"

"And we went to look for you," Astrid continued the tale. "Gobber made us some simple saddles, we packed our bags, and off we went!"

"And my father allowed THAT?!" blurted Hiccup, overwhelmed by the amount of shocking news he was being served.

"Not initially," admitted Astrid. "But I convinced him we were best suited for the job. It's not like he had that many volunteers. Even if the others saw us ride the dragons, they still wouldn't get near them."

"It's not like we would let them!" Snotlout exclaimed. "Hookfang and I were meant to be!"

Astrid shoved him aside, irritated. "The point IS," she hissed, turning back to Hiccup. Her expression softened as she addressed the chief's son. "Hiccup, your father cares about you. He would do anything for you. Even now people on Berk are instructed to catch dragons rather than kill them. To use the methods you described in your notebook. And once we have tamed enough of them, we will free the others from the thing that controls them," the girl beamed at the vision she was painting with her words. "This is what you did, Hiccup," she added softly, looking at him with gentleness and gratitude. "Well done."

Hiccup struggled to process all the information. Berk was changing. His father was changing. Was willing to listen. Wanted him back. The guys, they all went so far for his sake. And Astrid? She confronted his father. Did what he didn't have the courage to do. Went beyond what he had hoped to accomplish. For him.

Hiccup felt tears of joy stinging his eyes. He formed the snowballs. Astrid threw them. And the avalanche they have started together would bury the old world. Change everything for the better. For all of them.

"No, Astrid," whispered the boy, rubbing his eyes. "Well done."

She smiled the sweetest smile in the world. His heart melted at the sight. They have acknowledged each other. He was so happy he could die.

(…)

Toothless groaned impatiently through his muzzle. It would have been really nice if somebody set him free.


	11. Quiet between the storms

Valka moved away when Hiccup's friends entered the tent. Watched as they circled him. Absorbed their joy at seeing him alive. She was delighted to learn somebody cared for her son this much. Even if he did give her a few gray hairs in the last couple of hours.

She was glad the young Viking were so focused on Hiccup and vice versa. She'd hate to spoil their joyful reunion with her anxiety.

The story the teenagers narrated disturbed her. The story of everything that happened on Berk since Hiccup escaped with Toothless. Like her son, Valka was hearing it for the first time. All the questions she had wanted to ask the young dragon riders were thrown out of the window the moment she discovered the disappearance of her child. That moment she assigned each of the young Berkians a couple of dragons, gave them brief instructions on how to proceed, and sent them out to search for the runaways. There had been no time to waste.

Now that the crisis was more or less solved, they could afford to chit-chat. And Valka was forced to reflect on her past. She had long since given up on Berk. No matter how hard she tried, nobody would listen to reason, to her pleas. Wherever she turned she faced a solid block of ice, from which her arguments bounced. Everybody thought her insane. Childishly naïve at best. Some treated her like a child, who dreamt of a world where predators and prey animals lived in peace. Some laughed into her face. Some accused her of treason. Some tried to convince her she could be of use to the village if she only accepted their help. Nobody ever saw eye to eye with her.

Not even Stoick did.

Perhaps she could have convinced him. If only he wasn't so stubborn, so hopelessly unworkable. If only she wasn't so scared of losing him. The only person who made her feel like home in Berk. Who made her feel at home at all. She told herself he was raised as a warrior, he had to think of the common good before his own. It wasn't his fault. Not entirely. So she refrained from pushing him too hard. In the end, she's given up on him.

And now these children managed to change him. Changed Stoick the Vast. For the sake of the person they all cared about.

Her son succeeded where she had failed. He started something big, something wonderful. He had a whole team of likeminded allies. Those kids and their dragons. This was the future of Berk. The spirits on fire. The minds her son opened. The generation who was just finding its own voice, discovering the power they had.

They might even have changed her.

Valka still wasn't sure what to think, what to believe in. She was proud of those children. Glad to have found followers. Ashamed of being outdone by such youngsters. Touched by their passion. And scarred out of her skin.

They have come to bring Hiccup back to Berk. He will no doubt insist that she comes along. What should she tell him then? That people couldn't change? The argument was no longer valid. That it was better for everybody if she stayed? He wouldn't buy it. That she could not bring herself to look his father in the eye after all this? This was pathetic.

Suddenly Valka felt like a little girl. Little girl who escaped to the forest after she accidentally destroyed a whole shelf of pots. Gods, the analogy fit so well. She's made a huge mess and left it behind. She's ran away. And Hiccup? He made a mess, ran away, and wanted to return. Even before he knew they were looking for him, he wanted to go back. To face his father. To apologize and try to explain. To finish what he had begun.

The boy may have been a troublemaker, but he still was more adult than his mother in some respects.

SOME being the key word. He just might have gotten himself and Toothless killed.

Talking Toothless, he was still chained up. And surrounded by a flock of curious dragons, who sniffed at him and poked him. He wasn't particularly happy about it.

Valka went to relieve his suffering.

(…)

Under Valka's command all the necessary tasks were carried out. The dragon trappers put together into one tent. Captured dragons released. Traps and devices destroyed. Medical resources confiscated.

Last but not least, they had to figure out what to do with Hiccup.

Valka figured he could be transported in a lifeboat. The lifeboat could be carried by dragons – preferably Gronckles, since they were slow and guaranteed stable flight. Additionally, somebody could stay in the lifeboat to make sure Hiccup was okay. One of the girls – Astrid – volunteered for the job. Hiccup was visibly delighted.

They also had to do something about Toothless. The dragon's prosthetic was damaged in the fall, disabling him from flying. Hiccup insisted he could make a replacement, but now that his excitement was wearing out he was struggling just to keep himself conscious. Valka had preventively served him another portion of the poppy potion – just in case he wanted to argue with her.

Since Toothless's wings were still functional, and his disability laid in maneuverability alone, Valka decided he could attempt to fly with a little bit of assistance from other dragons. She put a rope around Cloudjumper's neck (which he wasn't pleased about) and instructed the Night Fury to hop onto the bigger dragon's back. He would hold onto the rope with his muzzle and glide above Cloudjumper when possible. Toothless was a little shy at first, but went along with the suggestion in the end. It's not every day that a dragon gets to ride another dragon.

Hiccup tried to persuade his mother to go straight to Berk, but she made it clear it was out of question.

"We have spent the whole night looking for you," she explained to her son. "Before that, I have spent most of the day patrolling and your friends looking for you. I should also mention the amount of work we put into infiltrating the camp, destroying the traps and adjusting the lifeboat for you. The sun will soon be setting. It is half-a-day flight from here to Berk, and I have no intention of setting out without a whole night of sleep."

That Hiccup could not argue against.

"But we will go tomorrow?" he asked.

"I don't know, son," sighed Valka. "You are not in the condition to travel."

"I promise I will heal better once we get home," he moaned. There was so much hope in his eyes, such a powerful longing. He so wanted to convince her. To have a family again. And his passion was melting her defenses.

She smiled at him shyly and pet his hair. "Sleep, child. We will talk tomorrow."

He smiled in return. And drifted to sleep. Her precious baby.

Valka was worried. She couldn't help it. But the idea of regaining what she had lost, what she had given up on, was tempting. Worth stepping out of her comfort zone. But will she dare do it?

It was not just Hiccup who wanted her in his life. All those kids were already looking up to her. Respected and admired her. Wanted to learn from her. And she so wanted to teach them. To pass on her knowledge. To know somebody will continue her work once she passes away.

If she refuses to go back, what will they think of her?

If she asks them to stay in the Sanctuary until Hiccup's leg heals, will they?

Was there a point in pushing back what was inevitable?

Valka sighed. She still had a whole night to think. Perhaps she will be able to make her choice tomorrow. And look into her own reflection without disgust at the end of the day.


	12. How to speak human

Valka found it hard to sleep, despite being exhausted in all ways it was possible to be so. She was scared of tomorrow. Worried about Hiccup's condition. Concerned for the kids she had become the mentor of. Absolutely terrified of having their mutual dreams torn to pieces by the community of Berk. Oh, and utterly frightened of having been proven wrong by said community. She couldn't decide which option was more heart-shattering.

Acting on an impulse, the woman snuck to the storage cave and dug out the bottle of mead she had acquired quite some time ago. She hesitated before opening it. What was she doing? She needed to be sober, in case Hiccup or his friends needed her. She had to think of them first. But how was she to look after them if she didn't get enough sleep? How was she to sleep if she couldn't calm down? How could she know getting drunk would help?

"Ma'am?"

Valka turned around, startled. She got so lost in her own thoughts she hadn't noticed she was being followed. And now one of the children she was responsible for was giving her a look full of concern.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" asked the child. It was the one who rode a Deadly Nadder and seemed to be the alpha of the teens. What was her name again?

"I'm…" Valka hesitated. What was she to say? 'I'm fine, thank you'? It was pretty obvious that she wasn't. 'No, not really'? That would be selfish – those kids were no doubt stressed with everything that was going on, knowing their mentor was falling apart would do them no good. Either way Valka might end up having to explain what she's worried about, and there was absolutely no way she'd do it. She wouldn't know how to put those feelings into words.

"Is it about Hiccup?" asked the girl, approaching her. Then spoke on, predicting it was no use waiting for a reply. "Whole him, always running into trouble. In all honesty, he's so reckless it's a miracle he's still alive," the girl chuckled, looking at Valka hopefully. They were now standing almost face to face, and Valka couldn't keep her eyes on the girl's face. Eyes were the window of one's soul and her soul was not something this child should see.

Apparently, the child disagreed. Seeing that the remark did little to lighten the woman's mood, she reached out to pat her on the shoulder. The faint motion made Valka look up. The child stopped her hand mid-air. Their eyes met. The child looked confused, anxious, maybe ashamed. At having done something inappropriate. That face made Valka feel even worse. The child just wanted to be nice, and how was she responding? By wincing away from the touch, like a started doe. By tensing, as if expecting a blow. By making this girl feel guilty about reaching out to her.

The girl withdrew her arm. Valka looked down in shame. Whatever good opinion this child might have had of her was no sure flying out of the window now.

"I'm sorry," she said, deciding she had to at least attempt to explain herself. "I'm so messed up…"

"It's okay," the girl said quickly. "A lot happened. Anybody would be overwhelmed."

"I guess so," sighed Valka.

She wanted to say something more. Apologize. Explain. She had those messages flying around in her head: 'This is who I am', 'I'm a little out of practice', 'I am still human', 'This is hard for me, but I will learn'. This and many more. But her brain failed to process the information she wanted to convey into the language the girl would understand.

Awkward silence reassumed.

The girl looked around, possibly searching for tips on how to handle a crazy, feral, vigilante dragon lady. It might have been the bottle in Valka's hand that gave her the idea for a new topic in their conversation.

"Do you store milk in here?" she asked, approaching the boxes piled at the wall. "And honey? If you can't sleep, perhaps a cup of warm milk with honey would help. It always works for me," she offered in a happier tone, leaning over the nearest box.

Valka bit her lip. Dear gods, interacting with humans was so difficult. Dragons understood her and she them. A dragon did not pretend, did not deceive, his or her emotions were sincere and genuine. A dragon's pulse carried more information than words could express. Valka felt relaxed and confident around them, knowing she didn't need to explain herself – they read her like an open book. But humans – humans used a complicated language. She did remember the words, but words alone held little value. The interaction patterns have been erased from her memory, the understanding of social situations handicapped. She was like a foreigner, a stranger to her own tribe. Because of her own neglect.

Out with it. She's had enough of avoiding trouble. Time to face it like an adult.

"Astrid," she said, getting the girl's attention. The question she wanted to ask burned her throat, stung her in the teeth, her tongue refused to cooperate. It was with tremendous effort that she verbalized her curiosity. "Astrid, what do you think of me?"

The girl's eyes widened.

"What I do here," Valka spoke on, determined. "What I did to my family. What Berk will do to me. I want an honest opinion."

The girl seemed anxious. Was it because she was expected to judge an adult? Was she afraid of Valka's reaction? Or didn't she have a definite opinion of her yet? Perhaps all of that. Perhaps none. Valka wasn't going to even attempt guessing.

Finally Astrid spoke. "I don't understand. I don't understand how you could abandon your family. I don't understand how dragons could be more important to you than your own son."

The girl's tone wasn't condemning. There was no anger, not really. More like pity. Which, Valka supposed, was the best she could hope for.

"I see," she said, nodding in acknowledgment.

She was angry at herself. She remembered the determination with which she commanded those kids. The awe in their eyes. The way they all worked together. The way she fit into their group. Assuming the role of their Alpha, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

She didn't realize how much she longed to be a part of her own flock. And it seemed she jeopardized her chances for ever fitting in with other humans long before they reached out to her.

"But then," continued Astrid. "I don't understand how Hiccup could have shot down a dragon and not kill it."

Valka looked up, surprised.

"I don't understand how he could have befriended the creature he was taught to hate. I don't understand how anybody could even consider the possibility of dragons being anything but vicious beasts, after a lifetime of seeing them steal our food, burn our houses, and wound our people."

Astrid seemed to be surprised by her own words, amazed with her own conclusions. Scared, but also excited by the ideas she was verbalizing.

"I've spent my whole life believing the Viking way is the only way to go. But recently I've begun to wonder: what if there was another way? What if I was wrong? What if all of us have been wrong all along? And the more I think, the more it's becoming clear. If something doesn't work, what is the point in doing it the same way over and over again? Doesn't it make more sense to try something new? Something more like… Oh, I don't know. I'm just beginning to understand. But I do know that it is wrong to judge a book by the cover. That the world is not black and white. That something might seem to be the best thing to do when we do it, and it isn't until much later that we learn how wrong we've been."

The more Astrid spoke, the more confidence she gained. The more she seemed to believe in what she was saying. As if she was a butterfly, beginning to break out of the pupa of her childhood, realizing, for the first time ever, she had wings of her own. Valka observed the process in awe, her heart pounding, the chains of her own doubts turning into dust. This child was setting the both of them free. And doing a damn good job.

Pleased with herself, Astrid finished the lecture with a heart-warming smile.

"So, as you see, Ma'am, I really cannot judge you. I don't know you all that well. But I am willing to get to know you. To learn from you. To change Berk with you, Hiccup, and everybody else. If you would allow it."

Valka looked at her and understood – it wasn't a question, not really. What Astrid appeared to be saying was: 'I have a feeling you want us in your life, but I am going to take it slow so not to scare you'. There was trust. Hope. Another human being reaching out to her. Showing she mattered. Showing there was a life for her among the people she had turned away from.

Valka smiled in return, tears of joy filling her eyes. "I'd love to," she said, rubbing her face with her sleeve.

Visibly pleased, Astrid approached her. This time Valka did not flinch when the girl's hand reached her shoulder.

"And if anybody badmouths you," offered Astrid casually, "tell me and I'll punch them in the face."

Valka chuckled. She reached to hold the hand that rested on her shoulder. Tomorrow did not seem so scary anymore.

"AAAARRRGGGHHH!"

A piercing scream alarmed them. A cry of agonizing pain.

Hiccup.


	13. How to manage pain

AN: I am no expert on medicine, so please forgive me if this isn't accurate. Also, warning for an infected wound.

Valka and Astrid darted into the main cave, their panic rising along with the intensity of the noises that lead them. The other teens and Toothless have already circled Hiccup and pulled the cover off him. The boy was desperately clutching the rug he laid on, his face was red, sweaty and twisted in pain.

"What's happening?!" cried Valka, darting to her son's side.

"We don't know!" said Fishlegs, jumping to his feet, moving to let the woman closer. Valka instantly took advantage of the opening. She reached for his face, and gasped at how hot it was.

Another gasp caught her attention. She turned and saw Astrid, wide-eyed, covering her mouth with her hands. She saw Hiccup's injured leg. More precisely how red and swollen the skin just above the bondage was.

Hiccup groaned. Toothless whined, sniffing around the boy's head nervously. In the background, the other dragons shifted, sensing fear in the air. Valka's mind raced. What to do? What to do?

Hiccup groaned again, louder. This pushed Valka into action mode. Without a second though she bit into the plug of the bottle she was holding. She pulled it out with force she didn't know she had and spat it out violently. She lifted Hiccup's head and neared the bottle to his mouth. He resisted, but she made him drink.

"Hush baby, hush," she whispered pleadingly. "It's for the pain. Drink."

Hiccup coughed, spilling some mead on his chin. Valka wiped it with her sleeve and continued to fuddle him. His resistance lessened. Her muscles relaxed a little. His shaking hand tried to push the bottle away. Valka honored his wish. Her son was much calmer now, but still far from fine. He was letting out faint moans and weeping quietly. The sight broke Valka's heart.

Toothless touched his nose to Hiccup's head, wailing over the boy. Valka pat the Night Fury's muzzle gently, feeling her eyes water. This dragon loved her son so much. It was beautiful. Painfully sad, but beautiful.

Meanwhile the other kids were snapping out of the shock.

"His leg is swelling!" cried Astrid. "We must cut the bondages open!"

"No, we can't!" cried Fishlegs. "If the bones dislocate, we won't know how to put them back in place!"

"Then what do you suggest we should do?!" demanded Astrid angrily. "Wait till his leg drops off?!"

Fishlegs covered in panic. "Don't yell at me! I'm not a laeknir!"

"Laeknir!" exclaimed Snotlout, snapping his fingers. "The trappers must've had one! Let's go and catch him!"

"But it hasn't been 24 hours yet!" reminded Fishlegs. "They must be still paralyzed!"

Valka jumped to her feet, silencing the argument. Her staff cut the air, and then came to a halt. She shook it, so that the end alone would vibrate. A faint, rustling sound escaped into the night.

She stood still. And waited. But nothing seemed to be happening.

"Rhea…?"

The faint, hurt voice caught everybody's attention. Hiccup struggled to open his eyes, unable to lift the lids completely. He panted, letting out a moan before speaking on.

"I'm sorry I… didn't put my toys away… ugh…" he stopped, a painful grimace twisting his face. "Please…" he whined. "Please, don't go…"

Tears filled his eyes. Weak, hopeless sobs emerged from his throat.

"Oh, for crying out loud," moaned Snotlout, running his hand down his face. Regarding Hiccup with utmost irritation, he knelt by his head and – to the utter amazement of everybody else – begun to sing.

"Fear and doubt – not allowed. Carnage's what it's all about. Have no doubt, grow a pair, catch your victims unaware,"

The other teens stared at him in disbelief, their shock more extreme than ever. Valka herself was shocked to the core. The song was lively, almost aggressive, and Snotlout spat the words out rather than sung. Yet – for some reason – this cacophony seemed to calm Hiccup down.

"Don't give in to despair, tears won't get you anywhere. Innocence – get thee hence. Things are bound to get intense,"

Hiccup's breathing stabilized. His features relaxed. Even Toothless seemed surprised by the effects of the unusual performance. Snotlout, by this point, seemed pleased with himself.

"Hah! Am I great or what?"

He looked at his peers for approval. Only to be confronted with unnaturally astonished faces. Needless to say, he didn't take it well.

"What?!" he demanded furiously. "He and I had the same freakin' babysitter, that's all there is to it, okay?!"

The teens were slowly snapping out of the shock and sending each other uncertain glances. They had no idea how to react. The situation was just too bizarre for them to handle.

An impatient growl caught their attention. They stared into the darkness. There, right next to Valka, a familiar figure stood. The young Vikings had to rub their eyes, to make sure it wasn't a hallucination. But there it was – the green, flightless dragon, with red eyes and sail-like appendages on its head, back and legs. And that ominous, barbed stinger at the end of its tail.

It had heard the call after all.

Getting a grip of herself, Valka crouched, slowly aiming her staff at the dragon's head. The dragon's eyes followed the rustling tip, fascinated by the graceful motion. Then Valka shifted, aiming the vibrating tip at Hiccup. Within a blink of the eye the boy's skin turned pale. Nobody saw what hit him. Even Toothless was amazed. The red-eyes dragon stood by Valka's side, pleased with the job well done.

Valka pet it on the head. "Thank you, Night," she said. "I'm in your debt."

And then – just like that – the dragon was gone.

Valka turned back to the children. Their stares were circulating between the paralyzed Hiccup, the spot where the red-eyed dragon had been, and the dragon lady herself. Too much too weird stuff was going on at the same time. But then, at the very least, things couldn't get much worse than this.

"We need vinegar," said Valka calmly. "And clean silk. Astrid, Ruffnut, go get some," the girls nodded and left the room in hurry. "Boys, one of you please prepare a dagger. We are going to cut the bondages open."

A bright smile lightened the face of Tuffnut. "I'll handle the dagger!" he declared eagerly. Without waiting for an approval, he darted to the heap of the boys' belongings – which they had unloaded before going to sleep – and pulled out a dagger.

"Give it to me," said Valka, holding her hand out. "Please."

Tuffnut scowled. "Aw man," gruntingly, he did hand the dagger over to Valka. She thanked him, upon which her eyes darted to Snotlout.

'Rhea…? Please, don't go…'

'What? He and I had the same freakin' babysitter!'

These revelations troubled her. The itching in her brain was unbearable. She knew she should not be venturing into this, she knew she would not like what she finds. Still, she just had to investigate the case. If she was to get hurt in doing so, then so be it.

"So Rhea was the babysitter?" she asked in as indifferent tone as she could.

"A housekeeper, actually," replied Snotlout. "She worked for both our fathers. Looking after us was a part of her job," the boy snickered, remembering the good old times. "Hiccup always ran to her, whining about things I did to him, you know. And she always told him to stand up for himself and clean his own mess. Smart woman, no doubt 'bout that."

Valka stared at Snotlout in disbelief. "Hiccup asked her for help, and she told him to stand up for himself?"

"Yeah!" confirmed Snotlout, happy beyond reason. "And he did try, but I always won in all of our games. I am just that special, you know. Though Rhea made us both parfait at the end of the day – I got one for being just that special, Hiccup for showing some guts. Man, I still can remember the taste."

Valka was out of words. Snotlout was so full of himself. He ridiculed her son in front of her and did not seem a little bit ashamed. Spoke fondly of the housekeeper who encouraged them to fight. Who taught them such songs. This was unbelievable.

Yet, it was the housekeeper's name that Hiccup called in his delirium. She was the one he turned to for comfort.

'Rhea…? Please, don't go…"

Valka forced herself to ask one more question. "What happened to her?"

Snotlout's smile dropped. "Well, yeah," he muttered. "She tripped and fell into the hearth at Hiccup's house. She did survive," he added hastily, "but got some serious scalds out of it. Lost pretty much half her face, along with an eye," the boy sighed sadly. "And then she left."

"Left?" asked Valka.

"Yup. Asked the chief for a ship and sailed off, into the world. We haven't seen her or heard from her since."

This didn't make much sense. "Why would she do that?" asked Valka.

Snotlout shrugged his shoulders. "No idea. Maybe she was ashamed. She spent her whole life on an island raided by dragons and got burned in a hearth – that ought to wreck her pride. It certainly would've wrecked mine."

Valka still wasn't convinced, but then, she didn't have a typical Viking mentality. Perhaps Snotlout assumptions were correct. Either way, it was the consequences of Rhea's actions that interested her, rather than the causes.

"How old were you?"

"When she left? Seven."

The revelation felt like a punch in the gut. Seven. So young and losing somebody they cared about so much. Somebody who – apparently - had been like a mother to Hiccup.

'Rhea…? Please, don't go…"

Sediment of regret collected at the bottom of Valka's heart. Hiccup did mention a housekeeper – only after she asked how he and his father were managing. And he never once indicated the woman was in any way special to him.

But she was. And he still missed her.

A part of Valka wanted to cry, realizing yet again how much she hurt her son. Yet, she couldn't help but be proud of him. Despite her never having been there for him, he still didn't want to hurt her. Didn't want to throw it into her face. Such a good boy he was, her little Hiccup.

"Here you go!" called Astrid. She and Ruffnut have just come back, equipped in vinegar and silk.

"Good," said Valka, gathering her courage and determination. She had to be strong now. Stronger than she ever was. And make sure – at all cost – that her son gets back to Berk alive.

She washed her hands and the dagger in vinegar. Fear and doubt – not allowed. Carnage's what it's all about.

She cut through Hiccup's bondages, releasing the paralyzed leg. Don't give in to despair, tears won't get you anywhere. On the outer side of the calf was a long, thick line composed of stitches. Innocence – get thee hence. Things are bound to get intense.

Oh Rhea, you had no idea.

"This is what we'll do," Valka spoke firmly, using vinegar to clean her son's leg. "We set out at dawn. Snotlout, you will fly straight to Berk, as fast as you can. Tell them we're coming. Inform the laeknar of Hiccup's condition. Just don't tell anybody about me. Tell them you've found a feral, vigilante dragon trainer, who has spent many years living among dragons and was willing to help. As long as Stoick promises not to hurt any of her dragons. Understood?"

"Aye aye, Ma'am!" said Snotlout, saluting her with awe.

"Good," said Valka, preparing the new bondage. "The rest of us will escort Hiccup. We will put him in the boat, and have Gronckles carry it. Everybody else will fly around for protection. Astrid, can I trust you to stay in the boat with Hiccup?"

"I'll guide him like my own eye, Ma'am," confirmed the girl.

"Good. Any questions? No? Okay then. Let us try get some sleep before we set out."

"Yes Ma'am!" said everybody.

Valka tied the bondage, not quite sure if it was tight enough, but deciding it would have to do. She's done everything she could. This should keep Hiccup alive until they get home.


	14. Home again

AN: Laeknir (plural: laeknar) - Viking practitioner of medicine.

The air around Berk has been thick with tension for the last couple of days. Many struggled to decide what they should think and feel in regard to the recent events. When the chief's only son turned out to be a traitor, who openly declared his affiliation with the dragons, the world seemed to have fallen apart. Yet, it had only been the snowball that caused an entire avalanche of unbelievable events.

The young Vikings from the dragon slaying program – lead by the charismatic Astrid Hofferson – have done what the chief's son had attempted to do – approached the dragons they had practiced on as if they were gentle house pets, not vicious beasts. To make matters crazier, they have done so with the approval of the chief himself. As if that wasn't insane enough, they have actually succeeded. The whole group waved their hands to the general astonished population from the backs of their new mounts – while exploring the air above Berk. Quite a few elders fainted from shock.

Chief Stoick the Vast summoned the Tribe in the Great Hall and informed them of the discovery made by Astrid Hofferson, his son Hiccup, and Hiccup's pet Night Fury – Toothless. Apparently, the dragons raiding Berk were being controlled by a gigantic beast, big enough to swallow a Hideous Zippelback in one bite. The dragons had to keep this monster fed, or else they'd get eaten themselves. Many doubted such a creature could exist. Many more doubted dragons would have stopped raiding their village if they only could. A few were insolent enough to accuse Astrid Hofferson of madness. They were quickly silenced by the girl's furious father. If anybody had considered criticizing the chief or his son, they kept their mouths shut.

The self-proclaimed Dragon Riders of Berk declared they would find Hiccup and bring him home. They insisted that he and he alone is capable of finding a way to defeat the evil dragon Queen. Stoick the Vast authorized them to go. Their parents – despite fears and doubts – did not stand in the way. Gobber the Belch made them some simple saddles. The rescue group packed their bags, bid everybody farewell and set out on what appeared to be a suicide mission. The rest of the population could do nothing but wait.

The young Vikings have been gone for days now. Their absence was omnipresent, as if Berk had lost a limb and was suffering from phantom pains. And whatever pain Berk felt, the chief felt responsible for. He had pretty much gambled with the lives of these children. He let them become test subjects. Of course, having to send your people to certain death was something a chief had to be capable of doing, Stoick understood this much. Still, there was a difference between fighting alongside ferocious warriors, his brothers and sisters in arms, and letting their children put themselves at risk to save his son. Battle-hardened warriors knew how high the stakes were. The recruits were young, reckless and hungry for fame. They had no idea what they were doing.

But then – as Gobber claimed – there comes a time when children spread their wings and leave the nest. Quite literally, in this case. He had taught those kids, he could vouch for them. Sure they were full themselves, impulsive, reckless and what not, but they could handle themselves way better than Stoick gave them credit for. This was especially true for Hiccup.

"Every bit the boar-headed, stubborn Viking you ever were," said Gobber merrily. "We told him to stop being something he's not. So, what did he do? Go and change the world to better fit something that he was. You have to say, this is pretty impressive."

Stoick couldn't argue against that. It was quite the boy he had. And he was only beginning to find out.

In the end, the chief decided the best he could do was to put his faith in the new generation. It wasn't like he had much of a choice at this point. He also made the solemn oath to appreciate his son more if he comes back alive.

Every day Stoick looked into the sky, searching for the familiar figures of dragons. And finally, the day has come. A single Monstrous Nightmare appeared on the horizon around midday. The whole community dropped whatever they were doing and gathered in the center of the village. Tension rose rapidly. They knew one of the dragon riders was alive and heading for home. However, the fate of others remained a mystery. There was no guarantee they would be coming back. Not unless Snotlout said otherwise.

The moment the boy hopped off the Monstrous Nightmare he found himself surrounded by the parents of his peers, yelling through one another. Stoick and Spitelout – his stepbrother and Snotlout's father – had to calm them down, so the boy could speak. And speak he did – spinning a story that would pass for a fairy tale if it hadn't been for the circumstances.

Yes, the other riders were fine. Yes, Hiccup was alive. BUT he was in desperate need of medical help. He had his leg broken when he and Toothless were shot down by dragon trappers. The Riders managed to save him with the help of a mysterious woman – a feral vigilante, who lived among dragons in a secret Sanctuary. She was coming to Berk, along with a dragon that was bigger than Berk, and could free them from the evil Queen. On one condition.

"You must promise not to hurt her dragons," Snotlout told Stoick. "I mean it. You, people," he turned to the crowd, "If somebody as much as throws a stone at them, she may have that ice-breathing mountain of a dragon of hers freeze us all to death. Believe me, that woman is not somebody you want fighting against you."

Not a month ago Stoick would have thought the boy has had too much mead. Right now, however, he announced that anybody who harms the mysterious woman, or any of her dragons, will be outcasted. The elders revolted, but were quickly silenced by the middle aged and young adults. There was no time for pitiful debates. The primary laeknir and the secondary laeknir had Snotlout describe to them Hiccup's condition as accurately as possible. They then darted off to prepare their house for the arrival of the patient. Everybody else waited.

Then, a couple of hours later, some black spots appeared in the sky. The spots eventually took on the shape of dragons. There was clearly a Hideous Zippelback and a Deadly Nadder. There were four Gronckles in square formation, supporting a lifeboat – in which, no doubt, they carried Hiccup. There were four or five dragons the Vikings have not yet seen. There was also Toothless, gliding above a four winged dragon, to whom he seemed to be attached with a rope. The entire party was a sight to remember.

People made place for the dragons to land. The moment they did Stoick rushed to the lifeboat. Inside was his son, wrapped in a blanket, with Astrid by his side.

He was moving. He was alive.

"Hiccup! Son!" called Stoick. Seeing him approaching, the girl jumped off the boat – and was immediately grabbed by her own parents. The chief meanwhile placed his arm under Hiccup's upper half and lifted it gently.

"Dad…?" whispered the boy. He seemed a bit dizzy, sweaty and hurting. But he was alive.

"I'm here, Hiccup," said Stoick, relieved to have his child back in his arms, yet worried sick for the boy's condition. His poor little Hiccup. It was all his fault.

"Dad, I'm sorry," muttered Hiccup. And groaned in pain. Stoick's muscles instantly tightened, fear flooded his brain. He didn't have much time. He had to be quick.

"Me too, son. For everything," he said hastily, trying to figure out the best way to carry Hiccup without hurting his leg. "I'm proud of you. Remember that."

A faint smile brightened Hiccup's pain-conquered face. "That's… great…ugh."

Stoick lifted his son, making sure the bandaged leg was stable. He then carried the boy to the laeknar's house, followed by pretty much everybody. The Night Fury ran directly by his side, the dragon riders were close behind. The rest of the villages kept a considerable distance, but they too observed the procession with vivid interest. It was the chief's son whose life was at risk. It was the boy who started it all, their best apparent hope at ending the plague of dragon raids. He had to make it out alive.

Having disposed his son in the laeknar's care, the chief went out and closed the door. He stopped there for a moment, not trusting himself to walk and not stumble. It all happened so fast. He had so little time to think. He hardly managed to apologize. To tell Hiccup he was proud of him. Those were the most important things. Those might very well have been the last words he said to his son. He wasn't even sure if Hiccup was conscious enough to understand them. And there was nothing more he could do but wait. Hiccup's life was in the hands of gods.

The chief felt a hand on his left shoulder. He didn't have to look up to know it was Gobber. Wherever he went, his best friend was never far behind. It felt good, having somebody like this near.

Suddenly Stoick's attention was caught by the sound of steps, combined with a concerned groan. The chief looked up. Approaching him, oh so shyly, was the Night Fury. The infamous offspring of Lightening and Death, with lowered head, questioning eyes, and purest sorrow painted on the muzzle.

Stoick looked into the dragon's eyes and saw something he'd never think he'd find in a dragon. He saw a soul. A being genuinely concerned for the life of Hiccup. An intelligent, gentle creature, who seemed to be reaching out for him. Somebody who, like Gobber, wanted to share his pain.

Stoick extended his arm, offering the Night Fury his open palm. The dragon looked at it, intrigued. Sniffed. Neared his head. Looked up, to meet Stoick's eyes. Looked back at the palm. Closed his eyes. And pressed his nose against the chief's hand. The Night Fury's skin was warm. Grainy. Solid. And surprisingly comforting.

"I'm sorry," whispered Stoick, regarding the beast with fondness. "For everything."

The dragon murmured, rising his head. Stoick saw understanding in the creature's eyes. Acceptance. They have made peace. There was yet hope for Vikings and dragons.

The dragon backed away and looked back. Stoick followed the his gaze. The Night Fury – Toothless, Hiccup had called him Toothless – showed interest in the crowd that gathered in front of the laeknar's house. Amongst them one person stands out. Slim and tall, with a spiked head. Stoick paid little attention to her before, his son being his top priority, but now he regarded her with interest. This must be the hermit dragon trainer. How did Snotlout call her, again? A feral vigilante. What a fitting description indeed.

Directly behind the woman stands a huge dragon, sturdy built, with a smashed face and two sets of wings.

Stoick's eyes widen, his insides twist. The beast had flown behind the others when they approached Berk, but seeing it from so close, he made the connection. This was the same dragon. The one who robbed him off his wife 14 years ago.

Same species, but not the same dragon, Stoick told himself. He couldn't jump to conclusions. But the resemblance…? No, he swore not to hurt them. But this one had hurt him. But all the people…

The vigilante read through his thought. And hurried to interfere.

"I know what you must be thinking, Stoick. But if you must blame somebody, blame me."

Before the chief managed to reflect on how familiar the voice sounded, the mysterious figure took her mask off.

Time stands still. Ground escapes from underneath Stoick's feet. Like sun emerges from beneath the horizon, the beautiful face of his beloved wife emerged from underneath the spiked cover. The sight is so glorious he takes his helmet off, not even realizing he does. He stares, wide eyed and wide mouthed, at the miracle before him, expecting her to disappear any second. But she does not. She meets his gaze and responds with a hurt expression.

"If you think you know what you're seeing, you are correct," says the woman, somewhat bitter, somewhat scared, but determined to keep a brave face. "I am Valka Wrinkly, also known as Valka the Reckless. Some of you might know me as Valka the Skullcrusher."

These words are directed not only to him, but to everybody around. People who remembered her and were now whispering excitedly, rubbing their eyes and pointing fingers at her. But he doesn't see them. There is nobody but her. His Val. He thought he had lost her forever. But there she was, very much alive. Spreading words like sun rays.

"I am the wife of Stoick the Vast and mother of Hiccup," the woman continues. "I was abducted by a this here dragon, Cloudjumper," she indicated the beast behind her, "during a dragon raid 14 years ago. He did not kill me, as you assumed he did. He brought me to the Sanctuary built by his alpha, the king of all dragons. I have lived among them for all these years, learning about them, observing them, discovering their secrets. Feeling like I belonged," Valka paused, her courage weakened by guilt. It hurt her to utter that last sentence. It hurt her, and that pain manifested itself in bitterness of the accusations she blurted next.

"I was by no means a prisoner. I could have returned at any moment, if I only wanted. I could have come to Berk with a whole flock of dragons, to prove we could co-exist in peace, but what guarantee did I have that would have changed your mind?! I have pleaded so many times to stop the fighting, to find another answer, but did anybody listen?!" she scanned the entire population, her expression shadowed with deep sorrow. Some rubbed their heads. Some looked aside. Some rolled their eyes. But the majority of those old enough to remember her showed symptoms of regret. It might have comforted Valka a little, for the next part of her speech she delivered calmly.

"Alas, I have no right to blame you for my wrongs," she admitted solemnly. "I stand before you today, guilty of neglect. A woman who had forsaken her own family, her village. I thought it was for the best if I stayed away, that neither my family, nor anybody, had use of a Viking who wouldn't kill a dragon. I was wrong. I see that now. And dare hope it's not too late to make things right."

With that last line she met her husband's eyes. Looked at him, directly at him, into his very soul. Surrendering to his judgment.

"I suppose now you get to tell me what a disgusting example of human being I am," she said sadly. "Throw in my face all events from Hiccup's life I should have witnessed. I am not going to hold it against you. Shout, scream, hit me, if that will make you feel any better. I am not going to escape. Not anymore."

She summoned Astrid with a motion of the head. The girl approached, concern painted on her face. Valka dispatched her staff and helmed into Astrid's hands. The girl backed off with the items and the woman turned her attention back at her husband. Stoick reflexively handed his helmet to Gobber, who still stood by his side. And started to walk towards his wife. It was just the two of them now. Nothing else mattered.

As she spoke, many questions bolted through his head: 'How are you alive?', 'Where have you been?'. How inappropriate all of these seem right now. Now that the love of his life was within his reach again. Older, with first signs of aging emerging from her skin, first gray threads running through her hair. She has survived. And she has returned to him.

He reaches for her face. She struggles to keep herself in place. There's so much anxiety in her, so much tension. Yet, all he can see is how beautiful she is.

This is what he finally manages to utter. "You are as beautiful as the day I lost you."

She stares at him in disbelief. She shivers. Tears form in her eyes, regret clutches her throat.

He moves his fingers beneath her jaw. Lifts her chin with astonishing gentleness. And places a sweet, tender kiss on her lips. She relaxes under his touch, fear and doubt stepping aside in the face of true love. It's only a moment, but it promises a lifetime.

When they finish and their eyes meet again, there is one more thing Stoick wishes to tell her, more than anything else: "Welcome home, Val."

For the first time since she took her mask off, she smiles. He pulls her close and her tears sink into his beard.

Nothing could ever tear them apart again. Over his dead body.


	15. Plans of Vikings and Dragons

The last touches of the setting sun found Stoick and Valka on the bench in front of the laeknar's house. Not far from them sat Cloudjumper, perfectly still with the exception of his head, which turned around, scanning the surroundings. Toothless, who did not have this great mobility in his neck, kept pacing back and forth, letting out a concerned whine every now and then. The Berkian riders have wanted to keep them company, but Valka advised them all to go home – there was nothing they could do for Hiccup and their parents wanted them close after such a long absence. It was the time for families to stick together. In the case of her family – for the first time in 14 years.

It felt so bizarre – having a family again. To come home after 14 years and be welcomed with open arms. She had feared Stoick would reject her, but he held no grudge. The amount of emotion in his eyes, the tenderness of his touch, the sheer awe painted on his face, every single detail of his mimic was emanating with pure love.

She almost wished he had punched her in the face. Got back at her somehow for ruining his life. Instead, he told her she was beautiful. This was the first thing he wanted her to know.

His mercy tore into her heart like a Whispering Death, destroying the foundations she had built her world upon. She felt so hopeless, so vulnerable, so confused. Tears rolled down her cheeks as he gently guided her jaw upwards. The lump in her throat melted as he placed his lips on hers. His kiss was brief and sweet, and it penetrated the deepest nooks of her soul. That moment she felt like a woman. She felt like a wife. When he held her in his arms, she felt like she belonged. His forgiveness had set her free.

It wasn't until somebody cleared his throat that she remembered the entire population of Berk observed their reunion.

"I hate to disturb, chief," said the culprit, doing his best to stick to the point, "But my son spoke of a dragon the size of a mountain. None of those matches this description. Has there been a misunderstanding?"

Valka recognized the man – Spitelout, Stoick's stepbrother and one of the most talented warriors of their generation. Probably the only Viking who'd dare remind the chief he was on duty. Not without a reason – Spitelout could be insolent, but he and Stoick knew they could count on each other. The glare the chief was sending his stepbrother right now implied the wish to punch him in the face, but no drastic action followed it. Still, Valka placed her hand on her husband's shoulder, just in case. The gesture erased the tension from his face and brought his attention back to her. Appropriately, as she was the one who owed them all explanations.

"I have indeed brought a dragon this big with me," she declared, hoping she was loud enough for everybody to hear. "I will introduce him to you shortly. I have to be sure, however, nobody would be trying to harm him."

Spitelout snickered. "If the dragon is as powerful as my son lead us to believe, it is us who should fear him, not the other way round"

A murmur of approval rose from the crowd.

"He is right, Val," said Stoick. "I can promise your dragons inviolability, but the agreement has to work both ways. Can you guarantee that none of them, especially that mountain sized one, will threaten our people? Can you vouch for them?"

She could see how it pained him to say those words. How hard it was to mind his duties and imply he didn't trust her. Still, what she noticed the most about his expression and tone was the hope. He wanted her to say yes, to assure him she knew what she was doing. He was willing to support her case in front of the population, but realized he could not afford to do so unless she equipped him in some solid arguments.

Valka nodded solemnly at her husband. She would not disappoint him.

"No dragon that came with me will harm a human," she said firmly. "Not unless provoked first. I swear to the life of our son."

Stoick seemed mildly shocked by the strength she put in the declaration, but the initial reaction was quickly dominated by awe. He acknowledged how serious she was and respected that.

"Very well," he said. "Bring him forth."

Valka nodded and turned to Cloudjumper. Astrid was already rushing to her side, holding out the helmet and staff, offering a wide smile. Valka smiled back at the girl as she took her items back. Everything was going on well. Much better than she had assumed. The door was open. Now she just needed to walk through it. Well, fly through it. And she knew there were already people ready to fly along. They were worth whatever work she will have to do to change this village. And then the world.

The dragon lady and her faithful Stormcutter rose into the air, heading for the sea. It was the time to introduce the guest of honor.

Slowly and majestically, the giant of a dragon emerged from the water, the screams and gasps of Berkians growing louder and more frantic as more and more of his body came to the view. From where she stood Valka could sense their fear and excitement, could see their widened eyes and open mouths. She feared somebody may not endure the pressure and reach out for a weapon. Yet, as she was beginning to realize – it was perfectly within their right to be scared. They have spent their whole life fighting dragons, being told to kill on sight, and suddenly they were expected to trust this giant to protect them. This was not a spoonful of yak milk parfait.

Valka made a mental note to be more considerate of the humans. It will be hard, but she had all the motivation in the world. It would do for a start. For the time being Cloudjumper turned, so the two of them could face the Bewilderbeast and pay him due respects. The wish was shared by the remaining dragons from their party – including the ones ridden by the Berkian teens. By now they all have flown to where Cloudjumpedr hovered. All but Night – who remained solid asleep, curled beneath a blanket on Hiccup's boat (Valka had chosen to take her with, in case another paralyzing shot was needed) – and Toothless, who could not fly on his own and was doomed to whine on the ground. That's another mental note – repair the tail fin.

All able-bodied dragons rejoiced at seeing their Alpha, presenting themselves to him and giving courtesy nods. The gentle giant was obviously pleased to see his subjects in good condition. His attention then wandered to the people of Berk, most of who were staring at him with terror and fright.

'_This is my Nest,_' Valka thought, locking her eyes on the Alpha's. The Bewilderbeast instantly turned to her, sensing that she meant to address him. He always knew. He always understood. Though he didn't speak, she could swear he could access her deepest thoughts, long before she became aware of them. Thus she thought on, as respectfully as she could: '_They have for a long time been at war with dragons, but they are willing to end it. However, peace is only possible if the local Queen is eliminated. As long as she makes her subjects raid the Viking villages, there shall be war between our species. Without your help, oh noble King, we will be lost. We ask of you to free us, humans and dragons alike, from the monster that keeps us conflicted. If you fulfill our request, I am going to do everything within my power to ensure peace. I swear to everything I hold dear. Will you help?_'

For a few seconds there was silence. Then, a sense of peace and relief befell Valka. She looked into the Bewilderbeast's wise eyes and could feel, as clear as sunrays on her skin, the intention and promise sinking right in and flowing with her blood.

'_You have always looked out for my flock, Beautiful Soul. It is only fitting that I return the favor._'

Valka's heart soared. She could only hope other people perceived the Alpha the way she did. Alas, she knew she had to start small.

Back on the ground she informed everybody that the Bewilderbeast promised to free them from the Queen. The claim was met with disbelief, distrust and skepticism.

"Promised?" somebody asked. "You mean the thing talks?"

"No," said Valka, reminding herself she had to be patient if she wanted this to work. "Not in a language you could understand. But I…" she hesitated, looking for the right words. How could she explain it, so not to make herself look like a lunatic? Fat chance. But she had to try. "I have learned to observe. To listen. I can tell, more or less, what a dragons means to communicate, if I pay attention."

People around her didn't seem convinced. Which didn't surprise her, really.

"It's like reading emotions through a person's expressions rather than words," she added hastily, desperate to find an appropriate explanation. "You can look at your child and know if he or she is telling the truth or lying. I'm doing the same, only that dragons don't seek to deceive me. You may not believe me, but I did understand what the Alpha meant to say. He agreed to help us and will do so. I can vouch for him with my own life."

She scanned the crowd, looking for signs of good will. It appeared that she did give them some food for thought. Only will it be enough?

Suddenly she felt a presence at her side.

"I can vouch along," declared Astrid confidently. "This dragon has accepted Lady Valka as one of his own, and did nothing to harm any of us. He IS to be trusted."

The girl turned to her mentor, sending her a confident smirk. Valka was so touched she didn't know what to say. Alas, there was no need for her to speak.

"Astrid's got a point there," said one of the women, whom Valka thought she recognized. What was her name? Oh, right – Phlegma. "If this dragon wanted to destroy our village, he'd just do it. I see no reason why he should be bothering to fool us when he could just, as Snotlout put it, freeze us to death. Seems legit."

After that, anxious declarations of support could be heard among the Vikings. Some were appalled by the idea of a dragon showing them pity. Some argued dragons were not this smart to concoct complicated plans of conquest. The elders complained the loudest, but the younger ones called them on using a twisted logic. Reasonable few pointed out they had little choice, and the Bewilderbeast was their best option. Some suggested Valka had spent way too much time among the reptiles and was out of her mind.

It was probably this sort of comment that pushed the chief into action.

"SILENCE!" roared Stoick, his voice drilling through people's skulls like a thunder. Silence ensured instantly. The man regarded the crowd with a strict, irritated gaze, as if they were a bunch of misbehaving children. Fortunately, they did respect the authority of their 'father figure'.

"Alright," said the chief, doing his best to remain composed. "I know how hard it is for you all, but we cannot ignore the facts. For years, for generations, we have fought dragons the Viking way. And that way brought us here – back to where we started. It is HIGH TIME we learned from our mistakes."

As he said these words, seeds of excitement blossomed underneath Valka's skin. Stoick, her Stoick, criticizing the Viking ways? She almost wished somebody would pinch her.

"My son has trained a Night Fury," the chief spoke on. "Harbored it on the island. Made it a saddle. Learned to ride it. And that Night Fury rushed to his aid when his life was in danger. This here dragon – Toothless – did not steal Hiccup. He was trying to protect him. And I'm only beginning to see he had a point."

At this point, the man turned to look at his wife. To her surprise, the confidence and determination he fired at his people lost its force. The look he was giving her was that of regret.

"I am beginning to wonder…" he said in a resigned voice, "if the same hadn't happened before. If this dragon," he pointed Cloudjumper, "thought he was protecting Valka. Protecting her from me."

That last line he said looking directly into his wife's eyes, momentarily silencing all sounds but that of her own heart. He was ashamed. The husband she so cruelly abandoned thought he was to blame.

"You did nothing wrong!" she blurted, her tongue getting ahead of her brain. "You were protecting me and Hiccup! It was a huge misunderstanding and nobody is to blame!" she insisted, meeting his eyes, moved by the sadness she found within. What has she done to him. Just what has she done?

"Apart from me," she added, guilt twisting her guts yet again, "since I chose not to return to you. To our son."

She looked down, feeling burned out. Word seemed inappropriate. Too little, too late. Even if they were being reasonable about this, it was foolish to believe a damage this big could be healed this quick. They would need time. Lots of it.

Stoick seemed to understand this as well as she did.

"Look, Val," he sighed sadly. "I am not going to pretend nothing happened, but neither am I going to let you take the entire blame. The truth is, I didn't listen to you. Nobody ever listened to you. And you were right. All this time you were right," the man looked aside, momentarily clenching his jaws. Regret burned his guts, anger filled his lungs. So many years lost. So many opportunities wasted. So much unnecessary pain.

"Oh Val," he sighed heavily, torment evident on his face, "if only I had listened to you when you were still willing to talk to me, none of this might have happened."

She wasn't used to seeing him like this – broken, hurt. Troubled, yes, but not quite like this. No this hopeless.

A part of her was glad, for he did acknowledge her rights. At the same time, she found it inappropriate to find positives in his pain. It was true that she never quite felt at home in Berk, that she was never treated seriously, that all her attempts at promoting peace have been ridiculed at best. It wasn't like she abandoned her family nor no reason. Still, the damage has been done. And she did not dare ignore it anymore.

"Perhaps I wasn't trying hard enough," she whispered sadly.

"Perhaps," he whispered back.

A sudden thump right next to them caused them to jump back.

"Alright, enough of this nonsense!" exclaimed Gobber in annoyance. "You two stop this self-contempt contest and get to work!"

With that he moved to stand beside Valka, with an arm on her shoulder, and addressed the chief.

"Stoick, do you accept this woman as your rightfully wedded wife, despite her leaving you in favor of a bunch of dragons and having more brain in her pinky finger than most men around here have in their heads?"

Stoick hesitated for a moment, trying to regain his voice. "…yes," he said finally, eager as ever. "Yes, of course."

"Good!" exclaimed Gobber, moving to stand beside his friend. "Now, Val! Do you accept this man as your rightfully wedded husband, despite him being a stubborn old buck, and wishing to protect more people than he could possibly fit into his arms?"

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes."

Gobber clapped his hands. "Splendid! Now, since we've solved your issues, how bout we make a plan how to best make a certain dragon Queen regret she ever sent her forces to Berk, shall we?"

He gave them both a smile as bright as the sun itself. The spouses considered each other. Their friend was right. There was no use in arguing over who was the victim and who the culprit. What is done has been done. They had more important problems to worry about right now. Problems that could yet be solved.

"You are the dragon expert, Val," the chief told his wife. "What do you want to do?"

To this, she had a simple answer. "The Bewilderbeast will take the Queen on. The remaining dragons and myself will be aiding him."

"You need backups?"

"No. Ships are too slow, too easy of a target. Your armada will only get in the way, I'm afraid."

"But not us!" exclaimed Tuffnut.

"Yeah, we have dragons!" added Ruffnut.

"Oh no!" yelled a woman, probably their mother. "You two have done your part, let the adults handle it from now on!"

"But Mo-om!" the twins groaned. The woman caught them both by the hair and pulled down violently, at which they cringed.

"No buts!" she demanded. "Over my dead body are you going to fight a dragon that's big enough to swallow the one you ride! Enough is enough!"

"But mom, we want to fight!" cried Ruffnut.

"We're Vikings, not babies!" complained Tuffnut.

"The kids have a point, Crackhead," said Spitelout. "They have some experience riding those beasts, they could come of use."

"Sure!" hissed the twins' mother. "As the lunatics who fly right into the monster's open jaws in hope of blowing her insides out!"

"Hey, good idea!" exclaimed Ruffnut.

"Geez, mom, you're smart when you want to!" added Tuffnut.

The woman pulled her children's hair again, with more force than before. "And you two are dumber than your father without even trying!" she hissed.

Meanwhile Valka scratched her head. "It's not that bad of an idea, actually," she admitted. "Dragons are not fireproof on the inside as they are on the outside. If a dragon fires into another's open mouth, that could cause considerable damage."

"But the big guy breathes ice," Spitelout pointed out.

"Indeed," agreed Valka. "But, if he immobilizes the Queen, and she breathes fire to free herself, another dragon could try to aim at her mouth. I do believe the Bewilderbeast alone could defeat her, but this plan seems like a good alternative in case she proves to be too strong."

"But which dragon should do this?" asked Stoick.

Valka thought for a moment. "Whichever manages to get close enough," she concluded. "They all will be distracting the Queen the best they can."

Suddenly she felt a nudge at her hand, followed by a whine. She turned at the dragon at her side. He was looking at her expectantly, his wishes obvious.

"Toothless, it is very noble of you," she told the Night Fury. "I acknowledge how fast and agile you are. But you won't be able to help much without a new tail prosthesis."

The dragon frowned at her, hurt by the mention of his disability. She could tell he hated being unable to do participate in the battle.

To this, Gobber had a solution. "That ain't a problem. Hiccup has left some sketches of the thing. I can repair it, maybe even improve it. Shouldn't take long."

Valka nodded in acknowledgement. "Even with a tail, he is still going to need a rider. Somebody to maneuver his tail…"

That was indeed a problem. Hiccup was in no condition to fly. The leg he used to control his mechanism was broken. But maybe somebody else could replace him? Maybe she could? But she was most effective when with Cloudjumper.

Suddenly a crazy idea made its way into the woman's brain. So crazy it might just work.

"Perhaps you, Stoick?" she asked her husband.

"Me?" he frowned. "Val, you want me to fly this… Toothless?"

"No," she admitted. "I would have preferred if you stayed here, with Hiccup. But I know you, Stoick. I know you want to be there, to fight along. I see how it irks you, being told you can't help. You are the chief and a chief protects his own. I understand and am proposing a solution. Work with Toothless. Show your people dragons and Vikings can work together. Will you, Stoick?"

She could see that he had mixed feelings about the situation. He did want, so badly, to participate in the battle. To do his job and protect his people. It was against his honor to do otherwise. At the same time, the idea of working with a dragon – the very species he was taught to fear – disturbed him. It was too much, too soon. There was no helping it. The grudge was too deep.

"I'll be damned if I stay here when my wife fights to liberate our island," he sighed finally. "But this? Val, don't know."

She offered him a warm smile. "It's alright. You don't have to decide just yet. Dragons need their rest. And I…" she hesitated, worries clouding her face. "I won't set out before I know Hiccup would be okay."

Stoick nodded in acknowledgement. "Alright. Tomorrow it is then."

And so they agreed. Afterwards the commotion died out. People returned to whatever they had been doing. The dragons found themselves cozy spots to rest. Gobber went to make a new tail for Toothless. At the end of the day, only Stoick, Valka, Cloudjumper and Toothless remained. At the bench in front of the laeknars' house, awaiting news of Hiccup's condition.

"He will be fine," Stoick told her. "He's strong."

"Because he's yours," she smiled shyly.

He shook his head. "Neh. Because he's YOURS."


	16. Healing Hiccup

Sun had almost completely set when the patience of two people and two dragons was rewarded. The sound of door being opened brought them all to their feet. Out came the primary laeknir - a burly lady with most her hair gray - and the secondary laeknir - a man around mid-twenties with beard and hair in the color and shape of fire. Both looked tired, but neither particularly concerned.

"We had to remove the stitches," said the primary laeknir, getting straight to the point, "Open the wound to reduce the pressure created by internal bleeding. We removed the infected tissue, cauterized the wound and put on clean bandages. The fracture is stabilized. We shall keep him under observation for a week or two, but the immediate danger has passed."

The patients' parents listened attentively. "So he's gonna be alright?" asked Stoick.

"He's gonna be in pain once he wakes up," replied the primary laeknir. "His left leg is probably always going to be weaker than his right. But yes, other than that, he's gonna be alright," she finished with a light smile.

The parents and dragons breathed a sigh of relief. Hiccup's life was no longer in danger. Gods be blessed.

The primary laeknir turned to her assistant. "Rusty, go get Gothi. Time for some charms to secure the recovery."

"Ay ay, Ma'am!" the man saluted his boss. "Be right back!" he said and bolted off.

The primary laeknir then turned back to the chief and his wife. "You may see him now," she told them, smiling encouragingly.

Thus Stoick and Valka followed her into the house, Toothless trotting behind them. The dragon seemed uneasy, likely by the smell of blood and vinegar. The laeknir clearly had mixed feelings about him accessing her house, but his apparent anxiety earned him the benefit of doubt. If the chief was okay with having a Night Fury near his son, then who was she to stand in the way?

Accessible from the main room were a couple smaller rooms. Hiccup's bed was located in one of those. The visitors thought they knew what they'll find behind the door, but the sight of their beloved boy's vulnerable body, so grievously affected at such young age, shook their hearts heavily. Hiccup's face looked almost as white as his new bandages. All this time he had been unconscious, but he looked as worn out as if he had paddled all the way from Valka's Sanctuary. So deprived of all energy and forces, so shockingly frail. Yet, this unremarkable shell housed a spark that could withstand the heaviest rain. It just needed some time. And a great deal of love.

Toothless placed himself at the feet of Hiccup's bed, sniffing the bandaged leg with concern. Stoick and Valka took advantage of the stools they found by the wall and sat at their son's head side. Stoick slid his hand underneath Hiccup's while Valka placed hers atop of theirs. So they remained for about a minute, contemplating the damage done to their boy, wishing to let him know they were there for him. If only there was something they could do to help him.

Suddenly Valka had an idea. "Stoick?"

"Hmh?"

"Back at the Sanctuary, when Hiccup was in pain, Snotlout sung him a song..."

Stoick's eyes almost jumped out of their sockets. "A SONG?" he asked in utter disbelief. "SNOTLOUT? TO HICCUP?"

"Yes," confirmed Valka, slightly concerned with the intensity of his reaction. It appeared she underappreciated the sacrifice his nephew made for their son. "I suppose he wouldn't want me to mention it," she added hastily, in case Stoick was to repeat the revelation to Spitelout, "but it really worked. Hiccup calmed down when he heard it. Something about carnage and being a man..."

"Fear and doubt not allowed?" offered Stoick.

"Yes, that one. Do you know it?"

"I do. Why?" he asked suspiciously.

It appeared that the chief felt uneasy discussing this topic. Was it because he didn't want to mention his housekeeper? Was he reluctant to admit somebody had taken over the role of Hiccup's mother figure at some point? Or did he simply suspect what it was that she wanted to ask of him? It didn't matter. If it could help Hiccup, it was worth trying.

"Could you sing it to him?" Valka asked her husband shyly. "Maybe that would make him feel better?"

For a moment the man hesitated, as if the suggestion surprised him. He scratched the back of his head, stealing a look at his son's face. Finally he sighed and met his wife's eyes again.

"You know what, Val?" he said gently. "I think he'd have preferred if you sung to him."

She raised her brows. "Me? I don't know what songs he likes."

"It doesn't matter," Stoick assured, suddenly optimistic. "Remember when he was a baby? You could sing him anything, even cooking receipts, and it always calmed him down. It's your voice that brought him comfort, not the words themselves. I'm sure it reminded him of the time he spent growing inside you."

Stoick obviously cherished those memories. His tone and smile radiated with encouragement, but Valka had doubts.

"But that was ages ago," she protested. "I'm not the person he trusts to protect him from harm. When he had fever, he called his babysitter. I'm sure Gobber is more of a mother to him than I am," she said bitterly, closing her eyes shut. She instantly felt her husband's hand on her cheek.

"Now, Val, enough of that," he said calmly, yet firmly. "You are his mother. You are here now. You may never be the person who read him stories or kissed his scratches, but you can still become somebody important in his life," he insisted, determination and faith burning in his every word. "You may let him know you care. Give him something he could not get from anybody else. There is a chance for you yet, Val. Don't let your guilt bind you."

Towards the end of his speech the chief calmed his tone. He didn't want to pressure his wife into doing something she felt uncomfortable with, even if he thought it would do her good. She read it all in his face, felt it through his hand. How warm did it feel against her cheek. This warmth sunk into her, bringing along all the trust Stoick put in her, all the courage she needed. He was right. She had to give herself a chance.

A smile of relief brightened her face as her free hand reached her husband's and pressed it tighter against her cheek. "Thank you, Stoick," she whispered.

"For you, my dear, anything," he chuckled.

They devoted a couple of blissful seconds to cherish the precious moment of intimacy before the chief spoke up again.

"Now, for a start: what would you like to tell Hiccup? Some advice? Wise words? Anecdotes from your life?" he smirked.

She thought for a moment. What was it that she wanted to tell Hiccup? Heh. How often she asked herself that question back in the Sanctuary. If she got to see him again, what would she tell him? What lessons would she teach him? If she could raise him as she saw fit, what would be the most important values she'd like to plant in him? The usual, she supposed. To respect his elders and women. To wear warm clothes and wash his teeth. Not to judge a book by looking at the cover. What else? Oh, right – no matter how little she meant to him, he was the best thing that ever happened to her. As long as he was healthy, she would be okay.

Valka looks at her son and suddenly she remembers. The words she put together so long ago. The melody she hummed to herself, hoping the winds would somehow carry her message to the baby she had abandoned. It all returns to her. And, after all this time, she may finally pass it on to him.

One deep breath later, the woman starts to sing.

_I remember saying I don't care either way_  
_Just as long as he or she is healthy I'm okay_  
_Then the midwife placed the crying bundle on my chest_  
_She said "It's a healthy boy, all the gods be blessed"_

(It wasn't exactly true, but she didn't want Hiccup to feel bad about the condition he was born with)

_I started wondering who you were gonna be  
And I thought "Odin help us if you're anything like me"_

_You'll probably climb a tree too tall and jump a brook too wide_  
_I'll remove new splinters from your fingers every night_  
_You're gonna throw a ball and break a hive_  
_End up running for your life_

_You're gonna get in trouble, you're gonna get in fights_  
_I'm gonna lose my temper and some sleep_  
_It's safe to say that you'll drive me mad, lad_  
(smirk – he has already done that in the little time they had together)  
_If you're anything like me_

_I can see you right now, knees all skinned up_  
_Claiming you've found goblin tracks, next to abandoned pirate shacks_  
_Won't you be a sight with your Viking helmet on_  
_That will be your first love till your first love comes along_  
(unless she already has ^_^)

_You'll get your heart broke by the time you're in your teens  
And Odin help you if you're anything like me_

_You'll probably stay out too late and play in snow too long_  
_Come home with a fever and frozen to the bone_  
_You're gonna get caught scarring sheep and be grounded for a week_

_You're gonna get in trouble, we're gonna get in fights_  
_I'm gonna lose my temper and some sleep_  
_It's safe to say that you'll drive me mad, lad_  
_If you're anything like me_

_Oh, you're gonna love me and hate me along the way_  
_Years are gonna fly by, I already dread the day_

_You're gonna hug me goodbye_  
You're gonna board your ship  
You're gonna swim and sail on savage seas  
(What she had meant by that was "You're gonna slay innocent creatures" – fortunately, it seemed he won't do that after all)

_But as you set sail you'll leave a tears' trail  
If you're anything like me_

_There's worse folks to be like_  
_Oh, you'll be alright_  
_If you're anything like me_

Valka finished the song with a sigh, stroking her son's hair. Yes, he was a little rascal. Stubborn, strong-willed, with his own ideas and a generous dose of craziness. And a heart the size of a Bewilderbeast.

He wasn't just anything like her. Neither was he the model Viking she feared he would be. He was more than just a combination of her and Stoick's most endearing traits. He was simply perfect. Her little Hiccup.

Sniff.

Huh?

They turned towards the door. The old laeknir was smiling through happy tears, the young laeknir was crying a waterfall, and Gothi had a look of peaceful harmony on her face.

Valka blushed. The audience took this as a signal to wipe their tears and get back to the point.

"It was beautiful, Ma'am. Really," said the young laeknir, pulling himself back to the serious demeanor. "Umh. Gothi has arrived," he pointed at the elder, anxious to get the attention away from his unmanly display of emotions. Man of science he might have been, but Viking nonetheless, and wanted to be perceived as such by his chief and the women. Gothi, on her behalf, gave a courtesy nod.

Valka and Stoick stood up and bowed respectfully to the elder, upon which the chief spoke.

"Lady, we have need of your wisdom. What can we do to ensure our son's recovery? How to bring divine forces to his support? Guide us, oh Lady."

Gothi considered the patient. She came closer and touched his forehead. Felt his pulse. Waved gently her staff above him, from head to feet. Toothless sniffed at her staff, upon which she hit him with it. Having apparently seen enough, the elderly lady scratched her head and chin, while stealing looks at the boy's parents. Finally she indicated to the secondary laeknir. The young man placed a portable sandbox on the floor in front of her and backed off with a bow. Gothi dropped the end of her staff into the sand and begun to draw. The patient's parents, laeknar and dragon came closer, curious of what her judgment was. When the picture was complete, the young laeknir attempted to speak.

"She says..." he hesitated, stealing a look at his superior. "Umh...?"

The main laeknir shook her head. "Don't look at me, lad. You are to succeed me, you gotta learn to read her signs," she said, unrelenting. The young man sighed and looked back into the sand, frowning in the effort to decipher Gothi's message.

"Umh... to help your son... There are three things you need to do," he said finally. Since he seemed not entirely sure, Stoick and Valka looked at the main laeknir and Gothi for confirmation. Since both elderly ladies were smiling, they concluded the translation was correct.

"Name them," said Stoick.

Gothi begun drawing again. The young laeknir considered her picture and provided the translation.

"First, you shall both cut a lock of hair - or beard, I suppose - and braid them into Hiccup's on either sides."

Much to everybody's relief, the young man sounded much more confident than before. It seemed he knew what he was doing, merely needed a warm-up.

Pleased with her student's performance, the main laeknir provided an additional explanation. "So to show his parents are always by his side," she told Stoick and Valka.

That made sense.

Valka pulled one of her braids to the front. Untied the thread with which it was bound and placed it a bit higher. The main laeknir was already offering her a knife, which she accepted. Having cut a streak from the end of her braid, she handed the knife to Stoick. He chose a portion of his beard and cut it off. As he did, Valka was already braiding her streak into the hair on the left side of her son's head. The main laeknir again provided help, offering her some thread to bind it. Having secured the braid, Valka reached out to Stoick, who placed his streak into her palm – they both understood she was better suited to complete this task, having smaller hands. Soon the red streaks of the chief's beard were braided into Hiccup's hair. The boy looked really nice with the offering from both his parents incorporated into his head.

"What's next?" asked Valka.

Gothi begun drawing again. The young laeknir considered her picture and provided the translation.

"You both must leave a droplet of blood on his forehead," he announced.

"Since he is your blood combined, your blood combined will restore his life forces," added the main laeknir.

That, too, made sense.

Stoick considered the knife he was holding. Since he already had it, might as well use it now.

"Wait," said the main laeknir, reading his intentions. She grabbed a bottle from the table in the corner and approached the chief, opening it. "No matter the size, wounds need to be sterilized," she declared.

Thus Stoick and Valka let her pour some vinegar – or whatever it was in the bottle – onto the little fingers of their left hands. She also poured some on the blade. Now properly cauterized, the chief and his wife each made a small cut on their designated finger and placed it to Hiccup's forehead, leaving a small red dot. Their blood combined atop of their blood combined.

Once they were done, the main laeknir offered to wrap their cuts. Better safe than sorry, as she claimed. Since she was so nice, they allowed it. Let the woman feel like she's done her job.

"Alright," said Stoick when the main laeknir was done. "What's the final step?"

Gothi begun drawing again. The young laeknir considered her picture. And made a pretty concerned face.

"You must... umh..." he hesitated, scratching the back of his head. He stared at the picture, biting his lip. He stole a quick gaze at the patient's parents and quickly looked aside, twitching nervously. That got them worried. What may the final step be?

Finally, the young laeknir turned to his superior. "Eh, Aunt? You might want to translate this one," he said anxiously, pointing at Gothi's picture. The main laeknir came closer. Considered the picture. Frowned. Then, surprisingly, a wide smile brightened her face.

"Oh, that?" she chuckled. For some reason, she seemed amused.

"What?" asked Valka, worried. "What is it?"

"Oh, it's quite simple," assured the main laeknir, approaching the couple with a joyful expression. "You two go home and be there for each other," she declared, considering the chief and his wife with kindness. The couple stared at each other, then back at her.

"And that's it?" asked Stoick.

"Yes," nodded the laeknir, beaming. "Fill your house with love, so that Hiccup would want to return to it."

That… made sense?

Stoick and Valka looked at Gothi for confirmation. The elder nodded, sending them a gentle smile. It seemed that this was really it.

The couple found no appropriate comments. All they managed to utter was "Oh. Okay."

The laeknir nodded in approval.

"Now, you should get going. It's getting late."

That they should. They had to a war to prepare for tomorrow.

The couple thanked the laeknar and Gothi for their help. The secondary laeknir collected Gothi's sandbox and set out to walk the Elder home. Since Toothless seemed anxious to leave Hiccup alone, and Valka agreed somebody should watch over him, she asked the main laeknir to allow the dragon to stay. The older woman was not pleased about the idea – as she had spent most of her life treating injuries caused by dragons – but ultimately could not say no to the heart-breaking face the Night Fury made. The dragon was accommodated for the night.

Having settled all the issues, Stoick and Valka exited the laeknar's house. They were welcomed by the blissfulness of the night and a curious Cloudjumper. Valka pat her dragon gently as he neared himself to her. Her loyal friend. How his presence comforted her. Alas, time came for her to re-learn to be a human. He might watch her as she does so, but would not be able to walk beside her. That thought had saddened her not so long ago. Right now, however, she has come to peace with the her fate. There were challenges ahead, but she would not be facing them alone.

The vigilante turned to her husband. He seemed a bit awkward, almost embarrassed. As if they were a pair of teenagers and he was gathering the courage to ask her out for the first time. The sight melted her heart. It felt good – knowing he was as anxious as she was.

"Do you want to come home, Val?" he asked shyly.

She answered with a gentle smile and not a trace of doubt in her mind. "Yes."

Notes:

The song sang by Valka is a remake of an actual song called "Anything like me" by Brad Paisley. I take no credit.


	17. Gone with the fire

They walked slowly through the silent village, enjoying the briskness of the air and the warmth of each other's hand. Most Berkians have already called it a night, so the streets were empty – with the exception of a few dragons, who have since fallen asleep. As for Cloudjumper, they have sent him forwards. It was easy to pretend that time has stopped. To forget, for a few minutes, that they had a recovering child and a war to fight. Those matters seemed like a thousand years away. It was just this silent night, cool air, and the two of them – together, as they should be. It was a beautiful moment. Therefore, it had to end.

Inevitably, the chief and his wife reached their house. Cloudjumper was sitting beside it. Valka pat him and whispered goodnight. He was too big to fit inside. Not that she would have allowed him. It would have been unfair for Stoick. The man deserved some time when he would not have to share his wife with a dragon. On her behalf, Valka was slightly nervous, but by no means scared. The worst was already behind them. Whatever happens tonight is bound to be awkward, but it is even more bound to turn out awesome in the end.

So she thought until Stoick opened the door in front of her and moved to let her pass. This was when she saw that the floor was scrubbed clean. The hearth burning bright. The table covered with white tablecloth, on top of which stood two sets of finest tableware, antique candle holder with 3 candles alight, and a steaming pot of deliciously smelling stew on a wooden disc. Next to the luxury display stood Gobber, wearing an apron and a smile as bright as the sun itself.

"Oy! Stoick! Valka!" he exclaimed, rushing to their side with open arms. " Welcome home! Dinner's ready! I figured you'd be hungry by now!" he announced, proudly pointing at his creation.

Valka stole a look at Stoick. He looked as confused as she was.

"Well, " the chief muttered through his shock, "thank you…"

Gobber acknowledged it with a nod, upon which he smacked his head, as if remembering something important. "Oh, and Val, this is for you," he said, turning to grab a wicker basket that stood by the wall. He showed it into Valka's hands. "A towel and some soap – since you may want to visit sauna – and some spare clothes. Probably too big, but it's a chore and a half finding a slim woman around here," he snickered.

Valka stared at him, then at the basket. It was indeed full of various pieces of cloths.

"Thank you," she muttered, lost for words. Prior to coming to Berk she did not dare imagine her future beyond defeating the Nest Queen. Only now did she realize she was going to need clothes and hygiene items if she was to stay for good. Quite an embarrassing oversight. She should probably be grateful that somebody did the thinking for her.

Meanwhile Gobber, absolutely oblivious to the awkwardness, continued spreading the positive energy.

"Girl, you really kept in shape!" he stated, gesturing all of Valka. "Haven't changed one bit! Such a pity that Rhea burned all of your stuff…"

Next instant Stoick's palm was all over Gobber's mouth. The chief hissed "Hush!", upon which he looked back at his confused wife. The panic in his eyes and the troubled grimace on his face frightened her out of her skin. She almost let the basket slip from her hands. Gobber, realizing what a terrible mistake he's just made, stepped back and hurried to explain.

"Ouch! Geez, sorry, t'was a slip!"

Stoick eyed him down, furious and frightened. Gobber covered his mouth and looked aside, embarrassed. Both men expressed an unusual degree of worry and uncertainty as their eyes sought Valka. The woman has completely lost orientation and it seriously troubled her. Her companions were obviously anticipating her reaction, and expected it to hit them hard. It seemed unbelievable that she was blushing from Gobber's complement just mere seconds ago.

Taking advantage of the moment of silence, Valka adjusted her hold on the basket and tried to collect her thought. She had to get this story straight, calmly and carefully.

"So…" she started, as calmly and indifferently as she could. "You've kept my belongings… and your housekeeper burned them?"

Stoick nodded gloomily. "Aye. Your clothes, embroidery, decorations. Whatever reminders I had left of you, she threw it all into the fire. I'm so sorry, Val."

It was with tremendous effort that Valka calmed her fluttering heart. Her heimen fylgia, everything she had brought into this house when she got married, thrown into the fire? Just like this? By the woman who, apparently, took good care of her son?

The vigilante bit her lip and held the basket tighter. All those things were replaceable and she had forsaken them years ago. It wasn't like she had a daughter she could pass all of that onto. More importantly…

"Why would she do that?" she asked her husband anxiously.

Stoick sighed. "I suppose I might as well tell you now. But first, tell me – how much do you already know about Rhea?"

Valka searched through her memories. "She was your housekeeper. She was also Spitelout's. Looked after both Hiccup and Snotlout. Left Berk after she had an accident in your…"

She stopped mid-sentence. A story begun to take shape in her head. She tried to stop it, but the dots were already connected. With chains as solid as Narfi's entrails.

'She tripped and fell into the hearth at Hiccup's house'

'Such a pity that Rhea burned all of your stuff…'

'Lost pretty much half her face, along with an eye'

The basket fell to the floor. Valka covered her mouth, her terrified eyes drilled into Stoick's. This couldn't be true. Surely he didn't?

But the chief read the accusation in his wife's eyes. Panicked, he grabbed her shoulders and stared into her, every bit of him wracked with emotion.

"It's not what you think. It was an accident," he assured, his voice displaying a vivid undercurrent of fear.

"Sure it was!" added Gobber hastily. "He hadn't meant to punch her this hard…"

Stoick gave him a look that froze blood in veins.

"I'll… go and check if I'm not at home," said Gobber nervously, upon which he hurried towards the exit.

Valka searched Stoick's face. His grip on her shoulders lessened, his muscles relaxed. The chief sighed in resignation. There was no way out of this situation. No way but the hardest one possible.

"I will tell you the whole truth," the man told his wife weakly. "If you are willing to hear it."

Valka knew she was not going to like whatever it was he would tell her. Yet, she also knew she could not pretend the problem didn't exist. There was no escaping the painful subjects. Stoick listened when she confessed her sins. It was time to repay the favor.

"I am," she declared. He nodded.

"Then we better sit."

And so they sat – at the beautifully decorated table. So painfully unfit for the kind of conversation they were about to have. So painfully mocking. They thought they were off the hook, but the gods laughed in their face. All they could do was swallow their pride, grit their teeth, and pray for strength to withstand those hardships.

Stoick allowed himself two more seconds of peace, sighed, and begun to speak.

"To begin with – Rhea was not just my housekeeper. She was my lover. There were others – one-night-stands when I was out on a quest and particularly lonely. But Rhea… I guess you could call her my girlfriend."

The revelation settled into Valka's head with the ease of a snowflake gliding to the ground. She had been prepared for this sort of news. She had long since decided, as long as Stoick accepts her back into his life, she would not reproach him for whatever relationships he might have had when she was gone. What she had not anticipated was the intensity of regret and shame in her husband's face and voice. He looked as if having to burden her with his secrets caused him physical pain. As if he had committed sacrilege. His guilt was what broke her heart.

"Stoick, you thought I was dead," she told him firmly, grabbing his hand. "I LET YOU believe I was dead. I didn't expect you to mourn me your whole life long… In all honesty, I thought you must have remarried by now."

"I might have," he said weakly. "If she hadn't…" he paused. Bitter hopelessness conquered his features. This was not a road he did not want to meander into. The one he was already walking was tricky enough. "But let's stick to what actually happened" he concluded, took a deep breath, and started to narrate.

"One night I had a meeting in the Mead Hall. I admit, I was not entirely sober when I headed for home. Not that it matters. Then, as I opened the door, I saw Rhea, standing over the hearth. I recognized your clothes in the pile that burned within it. I stared into the fire, unable to say a word. Rhea then told me she's had enough. She was tired of waiting till I get over you. She was determined to leave me unless I swore I would marry her that very instant. You can only imagine how angry I was. I told her she was mad, that I could never love her the way I did you. We had such a terrible argument…"

Stoick shook his head sadly, hesitating before continuing. He did his best to remain calm and matter of fact, but the next sentence came out strongly tainted by bitterness.

"In the end… she told me she could have given me a child worthy of my name… unlike the pathetic whelp nobody but me believed to be mine."

He gritted his teeth at the memory.

"This is when I lost it. I punched her. She lost balance. And fell right into the hearth. I sobered up instantly. I pulled her out, put down the fire, poured a whole barrel of water on her and took her to the laeknir. I waited whole night long to make sure she would live. When people asked me what happened, I told them she tripped. When she woke up, she told them the same."

He stopped to take another breath, and let the wave of guilt pass. At this point, his voice expressed mostly resignation. Whatever grudge he might have felt against Rhea was dominated by regret at his own actions. What she deprived him of were household objects. His moment of rage left her crippled and disfigured.

"I asked her if there was anything I could do for her," he spoke on, silencing his conscience. "She wanted a ship. I gave her one. And then she was gone. And I never sought another relationship after that accident. I didn't want to hurt anybody like I did her."

The chief looked down, mentally exhausted.

"I have cost her half her face," he whispered sadly, "and the last thing she said to me was 'thank you'."

Silence fell. Stoick stared down and Valka at him. It wasn't easy to cool down after something like this. What happened was indeed a tragedy. Both parties have had their rights and reasons. Both got carried away and wounded each other deeper than they had intended. Stoick clearly regretted that ill-fated punch. Rhea presumably regretted provoking him – since she chose to part with a word of gratitude rather than curse his name. At the end of the day, neither of them could be labeled solely responsible for what had happened. Certainly not by Valka, who had made this situation possible in the first place.

The woman gathered her courage. She knew she won't be able to make Stoick feel any less guilty. Yet, she also knew how hard it is to live with a burdened conscience. Perhaps that was enough for the start.

"This must have been hard for you," she addressed her husband. "And for Hiccup."

Hiccup. The only truly innocent piece in this puzzle. The unfortunate child who took the blows the adults had meant for each other. Abandoned by mother, abandoned by mother-figure, misunderstood by father. What a horror they put him through. Poor, poor child.

"He loved her," said Stoick bitterly. "He told her this much when she was leaving. If only he knew what she really thought of him…"

The chief clenched his muscles and closed his eyes hard. Valka hurried to intervene.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it. She was angry and wanted to hurt you. If she had really hated him, he would not have missed her even now."

At least, this was what she wanted to believe in. For Hiccup's sake, those assumptions had better be true.

"Perhaps," said Stoick, resigned. "We'll never know."

Silence fell again. Valka shifted in her seat.

"Did you ever try to find her?"

"No. She wanted to leave her past behind, to start anew. I had no right to stand in her way."

Valka sighed. She should probably be glad that the other woman was gone for good. At the bottom of her heart, she was happy that her husband was not bound to anybody else. Yet, she could not help it but feel sorry for him. Sorry for the way his relationship with Rhea ended. Which of those feelings was stronger? Which was more despicable? How was she supposed not to feel like a rotting carcass if she could not ignore her pain long enough to help Stoick soothe his? Gods, she was pathetic.

"I am so sorry, Stoick," she said, grasping the most logical thought from the chaos that clouded her brain. "I didn't realize… I knew you suffered because of me, but I didn't know just how much."

Stoick sighed sadly. "You did hurt me, Val," he said, matter of fact. "As you said, you let me believe you were dead. Left me to raise Hiccup alone. Put dragons before us. No matter how we look at it, you did betray me."

Valka lowered her gaze in shame.

"But…" Stoick continued. "I think I understand why you did."

Valka looked up, intrigued.

"You and Rhea," Stoick continued, "you both have ran out of patience. You both got tired of trying to get through to me. In the end, you both refused to accept anything less than you felt you deserved. And rightfully so. After all, how long can one chase a dream that will never come true?"

His wife regarded him in disbelief. "It's not like that" she protested. "I thought you'd better off without me…"

"Oh Val," he stopped her, "if you thought this, then I really am a lousy husband. I have never loved anybody as much as I do you. Not before, not since. Even when I thought I had lost you, you meant more to me than the woman who stayed by my side. Still, despite all this, I failed your trust. Failed to make you feel like you belonged in Berk. You confided in me, believed in me, and I treated you like a misbehaving child. Very much like I do Hiccup now…" the chief chuckled bitterly, hiding his face in his palm. "Turns out I have a talent for scarring off the people I love the most."

"You were never a lousy husband, Stoick," insisted Valka. "You were always patient, caring, and loyal. Even when I embarrassed you in front of the whole village, you wouldn't let anybody say a bad word about me. We did have our fights, but who doesn't? You didn't scare me away, Stoick. You are the only person who made me feel like home in Berk. Even now, when I think of home, I don't think of this house. Or village. Or anywhere else. I think of YOU," she said firmly. "And, for all it's worth," she added, blushing, "I love you more than I ever did."

Silence fell. Their eyes met. And slowly, a genuine smile brightened Stoick's face.

"Heh. We're pathetic, aren't we?" he chuckled. Valka couldn't help but smile in return.

"Yeah. Utterly," she nodded. It was sort of funny now that she thought about it. She blamed herself for ridiculing him when they were younger and abandoning him in the end. He blamed himself for not supporting her enough and thought he had driven her away. They both cared so much for each other, and ended up living apart and sinking in regrets. What a funny pair of old idiots they were.

"So?" asked Stoick shyly. "Are we okay?"

Valka nodded, stirred with the cuteness before her. "Yes, Stoick. We are okay."

"All is forgiven?"

"Done and gone, darling."

"I love you, Val."

"I love you too, Stoick."

They reached to caress each other's face. Their foreheads touched above the table. Lips found lips. Valka's hand ran through the familiar texture of beard, Stoick's hand travelled to the back of her head and pressed her harder towards him. His tongue invited hers to dance, and she eagerly accepted. Hunger flooded her body.

And manifested itself through a loud rumble.

They broke apart, startled.

Another rumble followed. This one came from Stoick.

They stared at each other. And blushed like lobsters. So much was going on that they totally forgot they haven't had dinner. And their stomachs were demanding the oversight be dealt with.

"Umh, shall we eat?" suggested Valka, scratching the back of her head.

Stoick chuckled. "For you, my dear, anything."

AN:

I chose not to believe Stoick remained chaste after losing Valka. It seems more realistic that way.

And heimen fylgia is everything a woman takes from her family home to her husvband's home when she gets married (Info from Dyanne H S from the "Oupouring of Thought" tumblr, aka the All Mother of Viking Knowledge).


	18. Old habits die hard

When you are a Viking and wake up to the sound of something big smashing against your roof, your body knows before your mind does: dragons. Your hand instinctively reaches out for the weapon you keep close to your bed, adrenaline washes away all traces of tiredness, your legs carry you outside…

…whereupon you get to witness the rather disturbing sight of your enormous chief unsuccessfully trying to ride a less than pleased Night Fury, while his feral wife holds tight onto him, yelling commands, and her four-winged dragon struggles to maintain a safe distance from all this.

This is when you begin to wonder if you really DID wake up after all.

(…)

"Slow down!" yelled Valka

"Tell that to HIM!" growled Stoick.

Toothless groaned, heading for yet another roof at an alarming speed. He stretched out his forelegs in a desperate attempt to bounce from it, but the force of the impact still threw his muzzle against the hard wood, resulting in another groan.

"You're gonna blame THAT on the dragon, too?!" demanded Valka, on the verge of patience.

"Yep!" shouted Stoick, tightening his grip on Toothless's neck and pulling it up. The moaning dragon bolted up, falling victim to severe turbulences. He swirled and whirled and the humans screamed along with him.

"Change position!" screamed Valka.

"I'm trying!" roared Stoick, pushing the stirrup hard. His frantic attempt at adjusting the course only threw Toothless off balance, straight towards the ground. As they all screamed, Cloudjumper bolted underneath them, turning his back towards the ground, flapping his wings frantically. The sudden blow of air slowed the crashing Toothless down, stabilizing his course enough to land safely. Once all his pawn touched the ground, the black dragon collapsed, exhausted beyond belief. Sweet mother of all dragons, he missed his little Hiccup so much it hurt.

Meanwhile the chief and his wife were catching their breaths. Valka seriously considered dropping on her knees and kissing the ground. Not even her first flight with Cloudjumper had wrecked her nerves as much as this. And THAT spoke volumes.

Still, she did her best to calm down. This was only a test flight, a valuable learning experience for Stoick. She had to be patient, praise him for the efforts, explain what went wrong and encourage him to try again. And hope Toothless will be kind enough to bear with the chief's unruly riding style a little longer.

However, before she was done catching her breath, her husband hopped off Toothless. And turned at her with a bitter expression.

"It's no use, Val," he complained, having no intention of hiding his frustration. "The beast just won't listen," he pointed the black dragon accusingly.

That was the final straw. Valka was done enduring her husband's immaturity.

"And you wonder why?" she exploded, giving voice to her frustrations. "All you did was fight him!"

Her words felt like a finishing blow to Stoick's wounded pride. Hatchet – unburied!

"And what was I supposed to do?!" he demanded furiously. "That thing could have killed the both of us!"

"Him?!" roared Valka, outraged. "All this time he was giving you signals! You might have noticed, if you weren't so bent on dominating him!"

Anger flashed in Stoick's eyes. Good. If he won't put on the big-boy pants and admit to his mistakes, she'll make him!

"So it's all my fault, yeah?!" demanded Stoick, boiling with anger. He made an idiot out of himself, risked his life, swallowed his pride, all for her, and all she cared for was that useless reptile!

"Well, it certainly isn't his!" insisted Valka, defiant as ever. Just how immature could that hard-headed brute get?!

"Well sorry I don't speak Dragonese!" he exclaimed, his face as red as his beard.

"Well sorry there is no getting through that hard piece of rock you proudly call your head!" she yelled, pointing a finger at his nose.

"Watch your tongue you…! AUGH!"

"AUGH!"

Further exchange of insults was blocked by a sudden strike of pain. Toothless and Cloudjumper, who had been rolling their eyes at the two humans for the past minute, have chosen this particular moment to perform an intervention. Namely grab the arguing parties by their braids and pull them apart. Harshly.

Stoick and Valka each turned to the dragon behind. And was met with a reproaching muzzle and a reproaching growl.

'_You are smarter than this_' – Cloudjumper seemed to be saying.

'_You two are making Hiccup and Astrid look like responsible adults_' – Toothless seemed to be saying.

Valka and Stoick didn't need to hear an actual scolding to understand the dragons were disappointed with them. Not only dragons. They landed not that far away from the residential area and quite a few Vikings were observing them in sheer astonishment. Most brought weapons, but have since dropped them to the ground, along with their jaws. Understandably. It's not every day you get to see your chief ride a dragon. Or crash land. Or argue with his wife in a public place.

Embarrassed, the man and woman nervously stole a glare at each other. They seemed to have agreed on something after all. It was quite a show they pulled of, no doubt about that one.

Valka felt particularly guilty about undermining her husband authority as chief in public. Perhaps even more so about questioning his intelligence. That wasn't fair. Especially considering all the compassion and understanding he's shown her until now.

"I'm sorry, Stoick," she said. "I know it's hard for you, and I'm not making it any easier. I guess I'm a bad teacher."

She hoped she spoke loud enough for the witnesses to hear it. Her family had a reputation to maintain.

Stoick acknowledged her apology with a nod. "I'm sorry too, Val," he said, his remorse genuine. "I guess I… I'm not used to… to NOT being in charge."

It wasn't easy to admit to such weakness, even in his own mind. To voice it was even harder. Even more so for a man as accomplished as Stoick. He was the chief, everybody's hero, a class by himself. All his life he personified the spirit of his tribe. He had long since forgotten how to be just a man. He might never have known that. Alas, just a man was what he had to be right now. What he wanted, needed to be. Just for her, for his Val, whom the gods brought back to him. He was desperate to give her a reason to stay, to convince her she still belonged in Berk, that they could succeed where they had failed. He so wanted to be the kind of man she needed. But the self-imposed chains held tight.

Valka understood all of that now that she paid attention. The subtle tweaks of Stoick's expression told her more than a thousand words could. The body language revealed his feelings, his thoughts, the things he meant to tell her, but couldn't push through his lips. And the complete picture of his inner turmoil made her feel awful. He stepped out of his comfort zone. He put his prejudice aside. He put the wellbeing of their community above his own safety. He agreed to follow her lead. And she made a scene just because he wasn't a natural at dragon riding.

Some advocate of peace she was.

Oh well. What's done is done. It was time to try and fix this mess.

"Perhaps you could guide me?" she suggested shyly. "Give me tips on how to teach you better?"

She decided the best she could do for Stoick was to delegate some power back to him. Give him a rock he could stand on. It appeared that he appreciated the gesture.

"I suppose so…" he muttered, scratching the back of his head. His anxiety was gone within the next second as he straightened up and spoke with a sudden bust of confidence. "Look, Val. I don't understand dragons the way you do. You need to talk Viking to me, not Dragonese. Don't be upset, but all this talk about bonds, trust and body language… it almost sounds… emh… it makes grown men feel uncomfortable."

Valka rose her eyebrows, puzzled. "Oh. Really?"

"Aye," confirmed Stoick, embarrassed. "It's pretty disturbing."

She had been so excited about finally being able to share her passion for dragons with Stoick. She tried so hard to spark his interest, to convey the wonder of dragon riding in the language he understood. She did explain how to feel a dragon's pulse and what a great deal of information it carried. That she and Cloudjumper were in perfect synch. That, when they flew together, she couldn't tell where one ended and the other begun.

Slowly realization dawned on her face. The way she spoke about dragons, one could think she was crazy in love with them. She pretty much made it obvious that her connection with them was deeper than with human beings. That the bond she had with Cloudjumper, in particular, was more special than anything she's ever known.

Stoick must have felt the dragon took his place in her heart, she realized, startled. No wonder he was so bitter after this kind of insolent display. Gods, she was so inconsiderate.

"I guess you're right…" she admitted, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Stoick. I shouldn't be allowed to talk, ever."

He stared at her, horrified. "No, Val. It's not like that," he said in dismay. "I want you to tell me everything. I want to know what you think, what you worry about, what you're happy about, everything. Nothing you say, not even a song of praise for dragons, could disturb me more than losing your trust." He touched her cheek, looking into her eyes. "I may not like the fact that some reptile has such an important place in your life, but I can get by. I just need to know there is a place for me in your life too."

"Oh Stoick…" she whispered, moved.

Stoick sighed and went on. "I know we won't see eye-to-eye on things, but I don't want you to conform to me. Be willful. Speak your mind. Confide in me and I will confide in you," he smiled gently. "Isn't that what being a man and wife is about?"

She couldn't help but smile in return. "I guess so," she told him, impressed with the way he brought peace upon her, and thankful he did. She really should be taking rhetoric lessons from him.

A smirk made its way onto her features as she realized she could put what he's already taught her into use.

"You know," she started innocently, "about what I was saying earlier, I believe I used too much Dragonese and not enough Viking. Would it be okay if I tried again?"

He nodded in good faith. "Yes, Val, please do."

"Thank you," she took a deep breath and tried to organize her thoughts. This time she'll get it right. "You see, Stoick… Cloudjumper, he is like a brother to me. Like a twin brother I never had. Dragons, they are my brothers and sisters. They are LIKE me, just the same. You have Gobber, Spitelout, Phlegma, your brothers and sisters in arms. Your fellow warriors, in whom you see yourself. This is the kind of bond I have with dragons."

She checked his face for feedback. Seeing no signs of discomfort, and even spotting a spark of genuine interest in his eyes, she could congratulate herself on a partial success. So far so good.

"It's different than the bond between you and me," she went on. "The two of us, we're so different, but somehow we fit together. Like… Oh, I don't know. But it doesn't matter. The thing is, I love you. And I assure you, no dragon could ever awaken in me the kind of heat you do."

He grinned, pleased with the declaration. "Really?" he teased.

Valka smirked, sensing the challenge. Sir husband wanted a proof, a proof he shall get. She tugged on the neckline of his tunic till he was at her level and pressed a kiss on his lips. She could feel him smiling against her mouth as he kissed her back. Tenderly at first, then with increasing urgency, pulling he into a tight embrace. Positively surprised, she found herself responding with a passion that matched his own. Whatever self-consciousness she might have had about showing her feelings off in a public place was dominated by a sneaking sense of satisfaction. Feast your eyes, Berkians – there will be no repeats!

When they finally came for air, she looked into his eyes with burning determination. "Really" she said, as definitely as possible, struggling to catch her breath.

Wild satisfaction blossomed on Stoick's face. "I think I'll believe you," he said huskily, caressing her cheek. She put her hand on top of his, enjoying the moment of perfect harmony. They may not be perfect, but they sure did good for a pair of old fools.

Meanwhile, Toothless playfully punched Cloudjumper in the wing. They could consider their mission accomplished. Hiccup would be so proud.

"So…" Stoick spoke up, "since we've solved our little communication problem, perhaps we should go back to dragon riding?"

Before Valka could agree, they were alarmed by a loud roar. Their eyes wandered in the direction of the sea, where the Bewilderbeast has emerged. People gasped, dragons squeaked in excitement. A flock was forming above the king, eagerly awaiting what he had to offer. Stoick turned to Valka, seeking explanation. And she beamed. It was feeding time!

"You know what?" she addressed her husband. "I won't explain. I'll show you," she hurried onto the back of Toothless, quickly adjusting the stirrups. "Hop on board!"

Stoick stared at her, bewildered. He didn't know what was going on and didn't like it. But Valka was so happy, so inspired. She certainly knew what she was doing. So he would trust her.

He took the seat behind her. She nudged Toothless. And up they went.

And this time, they've done it right.

AN:

I've wanted to show that Stoick and Valka do have their differences, and getting back together may not be as easy as we'd like it to be. Arguments - in a reasonable amount - improve the relationship ^_^


	19. The last lunch

The Vikings and Dragons Liberation Plan

Our Objective – To destroy the Queen of the Nest.

What we know – The Queen is huge and controls the other dragons.

BUT we have a Bewilderbeast, and the Bewilderbeast is even bigger and better at controlling other dragons.

Therefore the Bewilderbeast shall engage the Queen directly and kill her, while simultaneously making sure her subjects will not aid her. Dragon Riders shall observe the battle from a safe distance and not interfere, unless Emergency happens. (Plan A)

Once Emergency happens, Dragon Riders shall aid the Bewilderbeast. In which case somebody has to shoot fire into the Queen's open jaws. (Plan B)

The only person entitled to decide whether Emergency has occurred is Lady Valka. Dragon Riders will NOT engage until Lady Valka gives order.

Participants of the mission:

Chief Stoick, riding Toothless the Night Fury

Lady Valka, riding Cloudjumper the Stormcutter

Astrid Hofferson, riding Stormfly the Deadly Nadder

Snotlout Jorgenson, riding Hookfang the Monstrous Nightmare

Fishlegs Ingerman, riding Meatlug the Gronckle

Ruffnut Thorston and Tuffnut Thorston, riding Barf and Belch the Hideous Zippleback

(...)

Thus was the plan agreed upon by the Dragon Riders during the meeting hosted by Stoick in the Mead Hall in the early afternoon hours. By that time he had mostly gotten the hang of operating Toothless' tail-fin and started to see the advantages of fighting from the back of a dragon. Not only that – once he felt comfortable enough to focus on something other than not falling from Toothless, he found himself captivated by everything around. Never before had his beloved village looked so majestic as it did from the dragon's perspective. So beautiful. So peaceful.

Overwhelmed with feelings, the chief realized that he didn't mind teaming up with dragons if it was for the benefit of his people. Once Vikings get on the backs of dragons, nothing in the world will ever put them down.

Once the training was over, the chief decided it was time for final preparations. Thus he had personally slain a bull and called the Mead Hall operating team to prepare a meal for the forces he was about to lead into battle. If the Bewilderbeast was half as skilled as Valka claimed, the Vikings had nothing to fear of. Still, people were stressed, and had yet to revise their strategy. A good meal was exactly what they needed.

And so they gathered in the Mead Hall and discussed the task at hand. Fishlegs noted down the crucial provisions. And Valka explained everything yet again.

They have established that the Bewilderbeast is bigger than the Queen. Furthermore, while both posses the skill to enforce their will on other dragons, it is the Bewilderbeast whose power is superior. In Valka's own words, her friend was the king of all dragons, the ultimate alpha, the natural leader of the whole race. Not only was he capable of defeating the Queen with physical power alone, but also of turning all of her subjects against her.

Simply put – there was no need for anybody else to engage in direct combat. They would be attending the battlefield merely to observe and give testimony for the generations to come.

Fishlegs was especially relived to hear that. The parents of the young riders breathed a sign of relief. Spitelout and Snotlout acted all cool and disappointed, saying glory would have to wait. Ruffnut and Tuffnut's mother let herself be persuaded into allowing her children to attend the battle – underlining they were to observe, and nothing but observe, or else she'd disinherit them. They eagerly promised to behave, but their eyes shone, showing how excited they were for the show they were about to experience.

The Viking and Dragon Liberation Plan was approved.

All that was left to do was to sum it up.

(…)

Our meal will be served shortly. Before that, there are things I want to say to you.

It goes without saying, that the mission we are about to head off to will bring about changes. Huge changes. The biggest since Vikings first made Berk their home. The challenges that await us are great, but I believe we will manage.

We have discovered the Dragons' Nest. The thing we've been after since Vikings first sailed here. We are closer to putting an end to the dragon plague than we were ever before. We are stronger than we were ever before. Today, for the first time, Vikings and dragons are working together. For common good. For common future. Against common enemy.

The enemy is strong, but we are stronger. And we WILL be victorious. Because NOTHING is impossible for the joined forces of Vikings and dragons! I am only beginning to understand what dragon riding is about, but there is one thing I am sure of: together, we are invincible!

So eat up, my friends! And then let's finish the beast!

AN:

at all: I'm lazy, so I won't be trying to complicate this unnecessarily.

at Mariah: Her name will pop up in the sequel, that much I can tell you ^_^


	20. At home, at large

Hiccup awoke to the scent of smoke, accompanied by the sound of dragon claws rubbing against a shield, with hot molten lava bulging in the background. Intertwined by a begging scowl.

"Aw, come on!" cried Valka, reaching to the very bottom of the cauldron that hung over the hearth, and rubbing it violently with her spatula.

"Easy girl, easy," Gobber chirped jovially. "It's no time to panic until you set the house on fire."

"Besides, a stew tastes better when it's a little burnt," assured Stoick. "And nobody burns stew the way you do, Val."

Hiccup closed his eyes tighter, the tiny movement initiating a stream of dull pain that almost knocked him unconscious again. There was too much noise in here. Too many stimuli. He couldn't handle it.

Slowly the boy calms down. His senses adjust to the surroundings. He begins to make sense out of what he can hear and feel. And he dares open his eyes, to be absolutely sure this isn't yet another vision of his tormented mind.

Cause if he was to believe himself, he'd have to believe his mother and Gobber are making dinner together, and his father is observing them while cleaning a saddle. Toothless' saddle. And Toothless himself is resting right beside him.

Then suddenly the dragon's head plates turn, and his head follows. And the huge green eyes widen as they focus on the much smaller, tired eyes of the boy. And an expression of utmost joy brightens the Night Fury's muzzle as he launches to Hiccup's bedside.

"He's up!" calls Valka, letting go of her spatula. Stoick throws the saddle aside. They follow Toothless, and Gobber hops behind them.

They are all there, by Hiccup's bedside. Together. And happy. Like a family. And he cannot believe it.

The overly eager black head circles the fragile form of the boy, sniffing, gently nudging his rider's head and arms. And Hiccup reaches out to his friend, though his entire left side is pulsing with pain. He cannot quite control his limbs, but Toothless pushes his nose towards the shaking palm. And his skin is so warm, so vibrant, that it restores Hiccup's life forces. As much as possible in these circumstances.

"Don't try getting up just yet," Valka says. "You're still too weak."

Hiccup manages to smile at her. "Is this Valhalla?"

To this, Stoick chuckles. "Better, my boy. It's home," the chief places his arm over his wife's shoulders, petting Toothless' head with his other hand, smiling brightly at his son. Hiccup doesn't comprehend how it's possible, but right now he's the happiest human alive.

His father helps him switch into half sitting position and his mother handles him a cup. It's only water, but seems incredibly sweet. He supposed everything tasted this good when spiced with love.

"Your leg will heal," Valka tells him. "You may never be able to run again, but you certainly will walk."

"That's… good," mutters Hiccup. The clouds circulating between his brain and skull fade, and he manages to regain his memories. There was an accident. Then pain. Then his father's welcoming embrace. They were back on Berk, but what happened then?

"How long…?"

"Seven days since you arrived. And about a month until your leg heals."

He couldn't decide which of the two worried him more.

Next thing he knows he is offered a bowl of stew and a spoon. "Here. You should eat it. It's probably overcooked, and blunt, but it will do you good. This past week we've fed you nothing but water and honey, so now you need energy."

That much is true. But his thoughts fly in the direction of the past, not the future. "What has happened when I was asleep?"

This time it's Gobber who answers. "Oh, that ain't something that can be explained. You'll have to see for yourself," he chuckles. "But first you need to eat up. Would be a pity if you fainted when receiving homage."

That bit sounded intriguing. "Homage?" asked Hiccup.

"Oh no, you're not getting anything more from me. You have to eat first."

So Hiccup took a spoonful of stew.

"It's delicious," he told his mother.

It tasted quite funny, actually. Neither good, nor awfully bad. The dominant impression was that of warmth and softness. Which was all he needed at the moment.

After merely three spoonfuls he decided he couldn't eat anymore. His mother took away the bowl.

His father then took him into his arms, very carefully, making sure the bandaged leg was stable. Hiccup held on tightly, bracing himself for the surprises that were yet to come. And then, finally, the whole family exited the house.

What awaited them outside took Hiccup's breath away.

Dragons flying freely in the sky. Dragons sitting on rooftops. Dragons walking around. And not a single Viking rushing at them with a sword or an axe. And, by Odin, is that a perch for dragons being built in the village?

He barely has time to comprehend it before his surrounded by people. And dragons. And people hopping from the backs of dragons. And their joy overwhelms him.

There is Astrid. So radiant. So relieved. Beaming.

This keeps getting better and better.

Everybody is screaming and being merry. Dragons are chirping. All for him. Out of happiness to see him awake. But the sound that Hiccup hears most clearly is his father's voice.

"Turns out all we needed was a little more of… this."

Stoick's arms are full, but his eyes gesture to all of Hiccup, stopping at the boy's face. And beaming with the purest pride.

The world could end this moment. Hiccup would have died happy.

(…)

The villagers are then told to go back to their business, since Hiccup is tired and needs his rest. Still, the boy's closest friends are invited into the house. They circle his bed and fill him in on everything that happened while he was unconscious.

They tell him of his parents' tearful reunion. Of his father's rocky beginnings as a dragon rider. Of the epic battle that decided the fate of the world.

The Bewilderbeast basically dug the Queen out of her Nest. Had her pierced before she could take off. She roared and spit fire, but was no match for the giant alpha. Neither for the flock of suddenly freed dragons, her former slaves, who attacked her all at once. It was one spectacular victory.

And all that happened was thanks to him. The boy who wouldn't kill a dragon.

Hiccup is touched. Happy. And finally at peace. He no longer has to pretend he's something he's not. He can honestly say he fits right in. He has friends and a complete family. And a purpose in life.

Defeating the Queen was merely the beginning. Many issues remain to be solved. People and dragons have to learn to coexist. Need time and assistance. To maintain harmony, this community needs professional help.

Dragon Riders.

Hearing all this Hiccup takes the resolve to heal as fast as possible. There is work for him to be done. People and dragons counting on him. And he knows he won't let them down.

Nothing is impossible anymore.

(...)

AN 1: I was going to describe the battle in detail at first, but concluded there was absolutely no way I could do it without directly copying Avannak. Avannak is perfection. Everything I do she has done before and better. All hail the All-Mother of HTTYD fandom.

AN 2: This story is only the first segment in the series. I have several short stories and a major sequel in the works. I will be adding them to this account gradually :-).

AN3: I would like to thank my reviewers – in particular CajunBear73, Narya Anima, and Aspylady – for the warm reception. To be honest, I was reluctant to post on this website. I used to have an account here a good 15 years ago. This was where I posted my very first fanworks. Most of them were awful, and I no longer wish to be associated with them. This series is a more mature work of a more mature writer, and I am happy to share it with you.


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